#HEY LOOK I MADE PROPER ARTWORK OF THEM FINALLY

[squeak-art]

PARADOXAL SIBLINGS

PALX & DARRA

[sunnydreams17]

Hey so I wanted to publish some of my writtings around! I hope whoever reads it likes it. This is just for fun and I write a lot of stuff from different fan bases like " Hetalia", " Dramatical Murderer" and so on. This one is a fanfic from the show " Hannibal " so I hope you enjoy! Also forgive me for spelling and punctuation mistakes i'm still trying to get better at that ))

" art is my passion...art is my life, my work, my very being.

I turn pigs into art and this animal is now my art. She was disrespectful~ and as I ripped her flesh open and broke her bones to make her into something higher then she once was I can't help but feel still dissatisfied.

When will I get to make my final art work? When will I find myself a beautiful swan hidden among these pigs? When will I get to make this swan my final statement?

My dissatisfaction turns into disguest as I started to become rough with the pig. Making the art work more messy then anything. Yet still it was art and as I cut away her heart and held it gently in my hand I smile. At least this pig will be of good use after all. In art work she is nothing to me because she isn't my swan that I wish for but in food she will be something very useful indeed.

This is my design~ "

" Will..... Will.....WILL "

Will snaps out of his trance fast. His eyes widening a little as he takes in a deep breathe looking up at the stairs to the gruesome crime scene. A woman lays there stomach open as flowers lay in it. Roses, tulips, marigolds, and forget-me-nots. They looked as if they were growing out of the woman. The golden blood that dripped down from the woman falls onto the stairs as bones from her body litter the stairwell making it seem like the bones were trying to lead you to the main attraction. " what Jack? " Will sighs and turns away from the scene in front of him. Usually he wouldn't be effected by any of this but as of lately he felt like it was getting at him.

" what did you see? You were under for a long time that means you saw a enough" Jack, who was Wills boss stood beside the man looking up at the scene on the stairs. Jack was the head of the " Royal FBI Unit" it was a Unit ran by the king to make sure craziness didn't go around in the kingdom to much but there was other reasons for this Unit as well " what's our killer like? What type of crazy? "

" A person of art " Will finally said and turns back to the scene making sure he made room for other agents to start a proper investigation " their smart, educated, and someone that sees society differently"

" so their an educated sociopath that likes art? That narrows it down greatly Will" Jack rolled his eyes and frowns " that won't get us no where!

" their different! " Will shouted " this person knows what they want so badly...they want to find their swan! Their.... their needle in the haystack! They see society as pigs and among those pigs is a beautiful swan and they want it....they want to find it and make it there final artwork...they want their swan...

" and they clearly have not found it then " Jack mumbled as he grabs out his phone " which means there will be another killing soon until they find a swan... what do they think their swan will be like? What do they look for in a swan?

" I don't know " that's what confused Will...what did this person want in a swan? This person was educated and clearly loved art. " maybe someone that is on their level? Maybe someone that can be an equal to them"

" an equal? So they can kill their equal? That doesn't make sense Will " Jack puts his phone away " doesn't matter will talk about this more later. I expect to see you at the kings party tonight. Don't disappoint me Will" Jack turns away shouting orders to get the body taken care of and out of the stairs by dusk

Will felt a surge of annoyance go through him but he held his tongue. He knew talking back to Jack was like poking a already angry lion. Will just nods and walked away from the scene. He hated parties more then anything in the world. Parties ment he had to socialize and that was something Will never wanted to do. He rather be home with his dogs while he ate dinner and watched a fishing show. Though life was never that kind to Will because once he got home he went to get ready for this party.

The party was said to be held by the king every few years. The Kings name was Verger and he was known to be somewhat not fully in the head. Though Will never said anything about it because he knew the kings eyes and ears were everywhere. One word about him and he could be killed and Will rather liked living.

As Will stood near the mirror he looked at himself. He found the only suit he had in his closet which you could tell was a little old but it did the job. He pushed back his hair a little making sure his brown curly hair looked decent " just make it through 4 hours and then I can go home " Will mumbled and felt a rub at his leg. He looked down and smiled softly looking at his beloved dog Winston " sorry boy " he pat Winston gently " I'll be back soon just hang in there " he pulled away and grabbed his phone. He walked out of his home walking off to the castle which was deep in the city. God will already hated this but he walked down the cobble stone road and moved aside when drunks walked about or when a horse was rushing down the road.

The trip was long but when Will got to the castle gates he showed his invitation to the guards

" this is old " one of the guards said

" it's the wrong date as well" another said " you can't come in"

Will frowns and looks at the invitation confused " what do you mean? I got an invitation from the king to be here. I'm part of the " Royal FBI Unit" I have a right to be here " Will would have not fought if he wasn't surrounded by other people dressed far to fancy then he was. He felt like a sore thumb sticking out in a crowd of beautiful well dressed people. Will grumbled as he looked at the invitation and saw that he had brought the wrong one. Of course he did! He was a fool after all! He should have doubled checked! " you have my word that I was invited! If I go home now I'll be back here late and you won't be accepting guest at that time anymore! Please " he said softly and didn't want to hear Jack yelling at him like some stupid fool!

" we can't let you in unless you have the right invitation. You'll have to step out the line now sir. Or will have to force you" the guard said and moved his hand down to his sword. Will felt his heart drop a little at the movement of the guards hand. He was about to say something when he heard galloping. Will turns around just in time for a beautiful black carriage to pull up. Though the carriage when it stopped with a sudden jerk made mud splash onto Wills pants. Wills eyes widen in horror as he stood there looking at his now dirty pants. I mean the suit and pants was already so old but fucking hell that doesn't mean he wanted it to be completely ruined! " damn it! " Will backs up and crumbled the invitation in his hands. His had about enough of this night that was for sure. Will looked up at the carriage seeing the beautiful black and white horses and small statues of angels on the very top of the carriage. Whoever was in there must be some snob and will didn't feel like dealing with them. He turns away but before he could fully leave he heard the door open to the carriage and a voice with a heavy accent speak

" excuse me, I'm terriblely sorry for what happened"

Will stopped dead in his tracks and turns around looking over and seeing a well dressed man. A dark red suit with a small back flower in the suit pocket. The man's blond hair almost looking gray was neatly pushed back and his eyes were so beautiful Will had to do a double take .... i mean he hated looking at eyes so he quickly looked away " ....it's fine... I was just leaving anyway "

" no no no that won't do. You're here for the party yes? And I dirty you suit... let me help you. It would be my way of showing how sorry I am " The man smiled softly " come get inside the carriage and once we're inside the castle you can go to my personal room and look for a suit in there "

Will couldn't believe what he was hearing " suit? ... no no that won't be needed and I don't think we're the same sizes... I'll just head h-"

" I Insist " the man smiled a little more " my ex husband left all his suits in my room and you seem about his sizes so no problem there" the man looked at his pocket watch " we best be going soon or will both be late. The king does hate when people are late to his party " and with that the man sat back down inside his carriage and Will had no other choice but to go into the carriage. What confused him was why weren't the guards stopping him like before? Something was off but Will said nothing as he steps into the carriage. Inside was lavished. The seats were soft to the touch and Will felt a little bad having to be the one to sit on such beautiful things. When the door closed he gulped and smelled the soft scent of perfume. It was lovely to the nose. Now being completely alone with this strange man made Will a little nervous but he didn't show " thank you "

" no need to thank me " the man hums and crossed his legs as he looks right at Will. Will darted his eyes away.

" not a fan of eye contact are you? "

" I don't mean to be rude sir... eyes are distracting to me that's all. It's better not to look into them " that was true but also he always saw something in people's eyes that unsettled him.

" I see eye contact as something beautiful " the man taps his fingers against his knee " you know someone better "

The carriage came to a stop and the door opens " I'll see you soon. My room is to the east wing. " he looks at a servant " lead the man to my room " he turns to Will and takes his hand placing a kiss to the fingers tips " a pleasure to meet you " he whispers " I forgot to give you my name. How rude of me I'm sorry" he moves his lips away from Wills finger tips. Wills whole body shivering at the touch. Dear God this man would be the death of him " i'm Hannibal Lector" the man who is now known as Hannibal said

Will felt his mouth go dry but he moves his hand away from the gloved hands and gave a nervous smile " Will Graham " and with that he gets out the carriage fast leaving Hannibal behind as he followed the servant. Will could feel the eyes of Hannibal on him as he walked away and it gave him goosebumps. Though why did Hannibals name ring a bell in his mind? As if his heard or even seen the name before.

..........

Hannibal's room was beautiful and spacious. Who even was this man after all? To have his own room in the castle. He had to be someone important. Will stood in front of the mirror looking at his new suit. It fit like a glove completely on him. It was a dark blue suit and soft to the touch. It was made of silk " gosh.... someone like me shouldn't have something like this on...whoever was this man's husband must be missing out to leave all this behind " will grumbled and looked around the room. Not much of personal things in it expect a few books and maps. Other then that there was nothing else that caught Wills eyes.

.............

The party was in full swing as Will entered through the doors. He frowns at all the high and mighty people around him. All dressed nicely and even though Will was dressed up nicely he still felt like a sore thumb. Though Will knew better then to state that. Will looked around some more spotting the king sitting at his throne with servents and slaves attending to him. The music that was playing was gentle and soft as people slowed waltzed around him. Will made his way to the wine area and only stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He felt his skin crawl at the touch and he turns around to see Jack " oh its you " Will sighs and steps back a little

" you're late " Jack held his glass of wine in his hand " you're lucky the king didn't see " he added and turns away " I'm glad you're here though...that's a nice suit too Will, where did you get that?

" a... friend of mine " Will said softly and takes a glass of wine off of the table as he stood beside Jack watching everyone. It was a comfortable silence but after a good 20 mins it broke by the loud sounds of trumpets. That could only mean one damn thing.... the king was about to speak. Will mentally prepared himself as he looked over to King Verger.

King Verger had on a dark purple suit as he stood up tall smiling brightly. " welcome all! To our beautiful party! I welcome all and i say thank you all for coming to spend time with me and my fellow family members! This is grand Ole time we all are having and I just wish to say a few things before we enjoy our night! I wish to first thank my family for being here, I want to thank my beautiful subjects for being here too and now I want to thank my soldiers and fellow army men! As we all know war has stricken our kingdom for years now! Because of our dear red brothers who wish to live without us! But we won't allow them. Our red brothers and sisters need a helping hand they need to be taking care of and used to obey all orders. That's what God put them on earth for after all. They can't win against us~ no one can with our golden blood we are blessed by the gods and blessed to have powers " Verger smiled widely as he raised his glass. People all around will lifted their glass smiling back " we are the higher ones after all. But I can't forget to thank one man who makes the reds shake in fear and that is our dear Warlord.... Hannibal Lector"

Will went cold and he almost dropped his glass. He held it tightly fast to make sure it didn't fall. Hannibal Lector? .... that's why the man's name sounded so familiar...that man was the man to lead the Royal army against the reds..... that man was feared.... and Will knew it because he once lived outside the kingdoms walls. He was a red too... a red was someone that had red blood. They were seen as lower beings and the golds were seen as higher then them because they had golden blood. With golden blood came powers and almost all of the golden population had powers. This world...this kingdom and all kingdoms around were ruled by the color of your blood. Society itself was ruled by the color of your blood. That's why will was always carful because he was a red living as a gold to try to make a better life for himself. If he was found out he could be killed... this was dangerous too now that he has spoken to the warlord himself. The warlord that had millions of red bloods lives on his hands. This war was brutal and the golds were winning...

" no need to thank me your majesty" Will was snapped out of his shock and his eyes fall onto Hannibal " I'm only doing what is good for our kingdom and as you said. Our beautiful red brothers and sisters... the war soon will be over and we will all live in peace once again. I have a very old fashion mind set. I think the reds should stay under us like it's been for centuries...I also think we should take care of them " Hannibal lifted his drink up " soon the war will come to an end and after the battles are all faught we will all drink again to a peaceful world " he smiled and slowly lowered the cup as he drinks from it

Everyone else cheered and did the same drinking from the cup except Will. His hand was shaking just a little as he looked down at his glass. He was in the lions den... worse then before because why did he feel like Hannibals eyes were on him and watching him...as if he was the man's next feast

(( here is the description of the story

Will Graham works for the " Royal FBI Unit" and has always had a special mind that thinks further then a normal mind. Wills life has always been 1 dimensional but that all changes when he meets warlord Hannibal Lector. Now Will needs to be carful and in a world run by the color of your blood things start to take a change for the worse.

what will happen? and is Will going to be able to handle the man called Hannibal Lector.

I will also say that this story has modern stuff in it but it also takes place in a Victorian England type setting but I wanted to add in some of our modern day technology. ))

[galacticgraffiti]

𑁍⋆ Eya - Ep. VI ⋆𑁍

Rating: General Wordcount: 1.9k Characters: Eya (Nautolan!OC), Kad (Clone Trooper!OC) Warnings: nightmares, trauma flashbacks, hurt/comfort, overall angst with a good(ish) ending, discussions of sexuality (in a healthy way), soft besties Eya and Kad A/N: I am insanely excited to introduce you all to my first Clone OC! I'll try and do a proper character sheet of him once I get some artwork. He's just the best and I love him, that's all that matters for now.

Eya Artwork ⋆ Eya’s Charactersheet ⋆ My Masterlist

───── ⋆⋅𑁍⋅⋆ ─────

Vode Darasuum

Eya’s Apartment on Coruscant 20 BBY

Eya wakes up from their dream in cold sweat, their fists balled up so tight that the knuckles are pale pink surrounding their mereve beskar.

They sigh deeply, forcing themself to breathe slower, not to wake up Kad that sleeps next to them, Kad, who never gets peaceful rest in the trooper barracks and at least deserves to get it here.

Even after a whole day spent with their best friend on the planet, even after smoking some spice to relax, even after feeling Kad’s calm presence beside them as they fell asleep, the nightmares still come. Eya is so tired of it.

A small hand wraps around their wrist, and now they feel guilty in addition to sweaty and scared and exhausted. Kad deserves more rest, not to be woken up by nightmares that are only Eya’s own fault.

It is quiet for a moment before Kad’s sleepy voice mumbles words into the pillow.

“Something horrible happened to you,” he says softly. His hand settles gently on Kyreya’s shoulder. They can’t look at him.

Eya shudders and closes their eyes, the cybernetics resounding inside their head like an echo. Or a reminder. Their hands curl into fists once more, and nothing has ever seemed louder than the whir of their robotic fingers.

“…no,” Eya answers finally, their voice barely audible. “No, nothing terrible happened to me. It was me. I was the horror that was happening to people. Everything you see, everything you assume to be someone else’s fault… it’s all mine. Caused only by my actions, my decisions, my mistakes.”

“But the scars-“ Kad tries to say, but Eya interrupts him.

“The scars were caused by a bomb.” Their voice stutters as unwelcome memories flood in, but Eya has had a lot of practice keeping their voice steady. Still, an undertone of regret and pain shines through. Kad does not comment on it. Eya takes a deep breath. “By a bomb I laid, an explosion I triggered. Like I said… no one’s fault but my own. And my mistake wasn’t getting caught in the fire. My mistake was ever going there in the first place. Letting it get this far, letting myself become… what I did.”

Eya breathes, deep in, deep out. Gods, how they are wishing for a hydro-cig right now, as the memory of smoke and death coats their lungs. Their hearts stumble when there is a flash of something buried so deep they had nearly convinced themselves it was forgotten; the memory of tendrils that close around their own, the pain that floods their mind as they do, drowning them mercilessly. The cut of the blade, then the dark blood that clouds the water until Eya cannot see anymore, cannot speak anymore, can only inhale their own blood and try not to choke on it. The voice that gurgles through the water, weak but audible.

Help us.

And Eya’s own voice, so thick with tears they do not dare shed that they can barely answer, can barely speak the sacred words that seem to have lost all their meaning mere moments ago. But Eya says them anyways.

I cannot. I am death. And I will watch you die.

The soft slide of a familiar hand interrupts Eya’s dark thoughts. Worried eyes meet their own when they look down to where Kad’s tan hand tethers them to reality, pressing against one of their hearts.

“You went far away,” Kad simply says.

“Not far enough,” Eya mumbles. Their tendrils tremble as they absorb Kad’s emotions. Worry always tastes so bittersweet.

“Hey,” Kad murmurs. “Hey, you’re here now. You made it.”

“I did. But- Kad’ika, maybe I shouldn’t have, maybe I didn’t deserve to make it-“

“How can you say that?” All at once, the worry Eya could taste on Kad’s skin is pushed aside by the bitter aroma of seething anger. “How can you say that to me? As if it wouldn’t be- as if I would be better off without you here, as if I could be the same now that I’ve gotten to know you!”

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT I’VE DONE!” Kyreya’s voice is so cold they nearly don’t recognise it as their own, so angry and lonely. “You don’t know what I’ve done to get here- who I was before. You don’t know any of it, so don’t pretend you are capable of forgiveness for things you know nothing about. The Ocean Spirit should have let me drown right alongside them.”

Kad does not say anything. But his rough hand comes up to cradle Eya’s face, his warm body pressing against theirs. Eya’s shoulders shake, but they do not pull away. Instead, they stay still, so still as Kad wraps himself around them, his breath warm against Eya’s cool skin.

“Feel me,” Kad says intently. “Feel me, taste me, breathe me in. Let me bathe you in my love until you feel whole again.”

Eya’s tendrils move before they have fully processed what is happening. They sneak around Kad’s shoulders, curling up with gentle pressure. Their whole being is flooded with warmth and light; a soft shimmering blanket of affection that covers them in nothing but love. Eya sighs deeply, the relief that washes over them palpable in the air.

“Hmm, bit better?” Kad hums, and Eya nods quietly.

“Better.” They hesitate for a second, and Kad senses the moment of discomfort even as the tendrils pull him closer. This way of being comforted… it is something so deeply ingrained in Nautolan culture that Eya never thinks anything of it - of the touches, the closeness, of sharing a bed and letting themself be held just as they hold Kad when he dreams of battle, as all soldiers tend to do.

Humans are not like that, though, Kyreya has learned. To humans, touch means something. It means more. Sometimes, it means something Eya cannot give, at least not to Kad.

“Kad, you know-” they start, but he quickly interrupts them.

“You know what this is. What we are.” He gently presses his forehead to Eya’s, and there is that feeling again - of being loved unconditionally, as family does. Family. “Vode darasuum.”

“Vode darasuum,” Eya repeats, relieved that Kad was not offended by their hesitation. It would be easy to get the wrong idea if someone walked in on them now - wrapped up in each other, Eya’s tendrils curling around Kad’s neck and back. But this is not romantic, it never has been, and it never will be. They are family of the strangest kind - coincidental, but chosen nonetheless.

Kad moves, and Eya scrunches their nose. They don’t want to break the peaceful silence, not after all this, but-

“You’re laying on my tendril.”

“What? Oh, kriff-“ Kad shifts and rolls over, his head bumping against Eya’s chin. He elbows them in the stomach in his haste, and though the air is knocked from Eya’s lungs they start to laugh.

“‘m sorry,” Kad mumbles, his expression so sheepish that it just makes Eya laugh even harder. It sounds like oceans rumbling when they laugh like this, like waves crashing against each other and also like the quiet rustle of a creek, all mixed into one.

Kad looks like Fives, that very first night they met, when he spilled his drink all over Eya. Each trooper is so different from his brothers, but in some regards, they are so alike that it makes Eya hurt. An army of perfect soldiers, bred to fight. Only they are so much more.

Kyreya looks down, burying their face in the soft curls that cover Kad’s head. They smile.

“That’s okay,” they finally say, pulling back to look down at Kad who bites his lip in worry.

“No, I hurt you, I didn’t mean-“

“It was my own fault. I know humans- or all those without headtails actually- tend to forget they’re there sometimes. I promise, it’s fine.” Eya sighs deeply, and gently pulls Kad back against their chest. “Just… lay like this and you’ll be fine.”

Minutes pass, and Kad does not move from the position Eya has draped him into; instead he lays stiff as a board in Eya’s embrace until they groan in frustration.

“Okay, this is worse, man. You can move, just… be careful.”

Kad grumbles and shifts, pulling his arm in to lay across Eya’s.

“Do you ever feel weird about this?” Eya asks quietly, once again contemplating how familiar they are with each other. How easy it is. “Have you ever- do you ever want… more? Or something different?”

For a moment, Kad does not answer, and if it were not for the mild tension in his muscles, or the nervous scent that surrounds him, Eya might have thought he had fallen asleep.

“I- No,” he finally answers. “You know… you know, I don’t want that. Not with anyone.”

“Oh.” Eya frowns for a second, trying to understand his words. “Not with anyone, huh? You never told me that part.”

“I… yeah.” Kad carefully twists around in Eya’s arms so he can look at them as he speaks, his brown eyes blinking up at their mismatched ones with uncertainty.

“I only just figured it out a while ago. I didn’t know that was like… an option.”

“Mhm,” Eya hums softly. “I’m glad you figured it out, vod’ika. Glad you felt safe enough to tell me.”

“Kal knows,” Kad admits. Eya is not surprised. The twins share everything.

“They probably figured it out before you did, huh?”

Kad laughs, but he sounds a little sad.

“I- yeah. Sort of.” He shrugs and curls into Eya’s arms again, pressing his cheek to their chest. “But you know them. I’ve never loved anyone more, but they’re not… not the most sensitive. And I wasn’t worried about how you’d react, not really, but there was still this odd fear, this… hesitation that had nothing to do with you and everything with me and-“

“Hey,” Eya interrupts him gently. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. Not if you don’t want to.”

Kad exhales shakily, and for a moment, Eya is reminded that he is so young. The war has made the troopers age faster than any Kaminoan technology could, and yet, he is younger than Eya. A war may be worth lifetimes of peace, but there are some things the troopers just miss out on, a normality they never had.

“Whatever you want to tell me is fine,” Eya murmurs. “But there is no pressure. Go at your own pace.”

Kad huffs against their chest, then nods quietly.

“Let’s go to sleep, vod’ika. Tomorrow we can talk more if either of us feel like it.” Eya hesitates, then lets their tendril gently stroke Kad’s cheek. “We both need rest. It’s been a long day. Thank you for keeping me company, Kad’ika. Nephto knows I needed it.”

Kad presses his forehead against them harder for a second.

“Of course, Eya.”

And though the nightmares never quite go away for either of them, at least they have each other’s presence to comfort them through the painful memories.

♡ Happy snarwor oc week, everyone! Enjoy some cuddles. ♡

taggies for the usual suspects

@rescuethewretched @deewithani @thefact0rygirl @clonecyare @baba-fett @rowansparrow @tenderclio @twistedstitcher27 @spaceydragons @maygalodon @samanthacookieone @fennccshand @equalityforcats @ashotofspotchka @levi-llama @fantastic-commander-fox @thebitchformerlyknownaskenobi @lackofhonor @a-c-lee @imalovernotahater @ladykatakuri @solidago-sempervirens @meabravo @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @corrabell @sharpbarnacle @amcheeken @snarwor @basilbumble @dear-fifi @dollydee28 @snakerune @rexscyarika @misogirl828 @stcrmhond @shadesofshatteredblue @purgetrooperfox @tachyon-girl @amyroswell @cyarbika @damerondala @rain-on-kamino @kakashibabe02 @pinkiemme @ulchabhangorm

[lomappreciationblog]

Oh hey, Egglia is my top game this year, no surprise there, 80+ hours and ongoing, so let me gush about that on Twitter and -

-aaahhshhfhhddhgwkhfpu Mr. Kameoka retweeted it-

I will never not be surprised whenever he does that 😭 Sure, he's retweeted my fanart before (which is still mind-boggling, one of the artists whose work I looked up to for the longest time actually seeing my art) but it still feels so shocking.

I'm so glad (and incredibly lucky!) he frequently interacts with people who talk about Egglia (it's his game after all), Magical Vacation or Legend of Mana. It's a little embarrassing sometimes, knowing he sees these, but I hope he's happy to know people out there really, really do love the worlds and characters he's brought to life.

Oh, and as always, if someone is wondering why this is on a Legend of Mana blog, Mr. Kameoka (credited as Shinichi Kameoka on Legend of Mana's credits, but also goes by Shinta Kameoka) is the one who made the official art of the characters in LOM. He also made the designs of the protagonists. The other characters/NPCs are designed by Nao Ikeda, as detailed in the art book, but I do believe that the final artworks and illustrations we see in the game proper are by him. I just can't process it sometimes, LoM's character art is something I have aspired to all my life and to know that the man who made them retweets my things is just so awesome.

[milkybonya]

Butterfly

order 015, anon: large banana milk tea with lychee jelly and pudding for Asahi

Warnings: some angst (injuries, crying mentions) and food mentions

Summary: a coffee shop! enemies to lovers! soulmate!au all in one where Asahi, an expert barista and newbie!y/n's supervisor is easily angered by small mistakes, but ends up falling for his new employee as they begin to hone their craft, and even more so when he discovers the butterfly birthmark at the nape of their neck which matches his own.

*disclaimer! i'm not a barista but am writing using the minimal experience i have acquired after working in a place that makes coffee but isn't as artsy as a coffee shop,, so please forgive any inaccuracies!

[a/n] Alex if u see this LOOK IT'S A COFFEE SHOP AU HHH

After being lucky enough to get hired on the spot at your city's most famous coffee shop, you walk in on your first day, excited to make coffee and serve customers. The day does not greet you well, though, as your already nervous state is worsened when your supervisor and coworker, a dashing young man with black hair parted around his face, gives you a hard time.

Asahi is extremely cold and quiet, only yelling when he speaks to tell the employees to do their job right. He yells at you twice: once for forgetting to clean the steamed milk frother, and another time for when you serve the customers coffee that isn't fresh.

It leaves you feeling jittery to a point where you continue to make mistakes.

"[y/n], finish that order and meet me in the back," Asahi tells you, his voice completely emotionless.

Once you join him in the back, you find him sweeping, his hair falling in his eyes and prickling his nose. As soon as he notices you're there, he puts the broom away, pushing the hair out of his eyes before he turns to face you.

"[y/n], I realize that it's your first day, but you're doing an absolutely terrible job," he says.

"Our work here is more fast paced than you think, and if you can't handle it and keep getting nervous and slipping up, then I don't think we can keep you here."

Your bottom lip begins to tremble hearing the harsh criticism on what is only your first day, but luckily, a coworker who overheard everything steps in.

"Hey, Asahi! Big boss man, calm down. It's only their first day... stop being so hard on them," your coworker says, placing an arm around you.

When you look to see who it was, you discover that it's Junkyu, your bright and happy coworker who always does his job with a smile. Even just seeing him makes you smile, and he smiles back at you, patting your head.

"[y/n] is doing just great, so you can shut up!" Junkyu huffs, dragging you out and back onto the floor.

You may wonder why Junkyu was being so rude to his boss, but Asahi and Junkyu are actually close friends, so it's okay for them to get mad at each other like this.

"Don't listen to Asahi. He's like an old man sometimes," Junkyu says.

"And it's okay to get nervous! I was spilling so many things everywhere on my first day. Just take your time..." Junkyu explains, showing you how to do all the things that you messed up on before.

Asahi watches from the other side of the shop, feeling angry at the sight of Junkyu being so close to you, for some reason. He also thinks... he sees something on the back of your neck that matches his own birthmark, but he shrugs it off, telling himself he's just seeing things.

-

With the worst luck, you continue making mistakes every time Asahi shows up, and he scolds you for it in front of your coworkers and the customers each time. Sometimes, you have to rush to the break room to catch your breath and even cry it out, stare yourself down in the mirror and tell yourself that you're doing a great job.

"You're doing great, [y/n]! Don't worry about Asahi... you're doing great," you say.

Asahi, who is in the back of the shop in search of coffee grinds, overhears your pep talk and smiles to himself, immediately frowning as soon as you step out of the break room and face him, though.

"What are you doing? Get back out there!" he says.

You leave quickly and don't notice Asahi smiling at the way you waddle towards the front.

-

Despite being nervous at the beginning, your barista skills improve rapidly. You're able to master latte art after only a week and a half, creating pretty designs that are different for each customer. Your designs gain popularity and the shop grows busier with people waiting for you to hand them a pretty latte that you've designed.

Asahi still doesn't seem to want to give you praise of any sort, though, as he constantly points out your mistakes.

"It looks good, but does it taste good? You clearly went too heavy on the milk."

Even his your coworkers grow tired of Asahi, and everyone starts calling him angry bird Asahi behind his back with the way his eyebrows are pointed in a frown each time he comes to scold you.

For you, though, it doesn't matter anymore. You've found something you love and are improving in it rapidly, so Asahi's bitter attitude can't harm you anymore.

-

One short-staffed day, you're alone, closing the shop alongside Asahi. The two of you clean up in silence, save for Asahi's hushed hums as he sweeps.

Not noticing a paper bag on the ground, you trip on it and fall on your knees and hands.

Your yelp leaves Asahi rushing over, even though you thought he would just ignore your pain.

"[y/n], what happened?! Are you okay?" he asks, leaning down.

He pauses midway, staring at the back of your exposed neck. His fingers reach out in disbelief to touch what he sees, but he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable and stops himself.

A butterfly birthmark, just like the one on the back of his own neck. A shared butterfly birthmark in the same location: a sign of soulmates.

"I'm okay, I'm okay. I just tripped.

"Y-you're not bleeding or anything, right?" Asahi asks, suddenly breathless.

"Nope, all good!" you say, standing up and feeling confused at Asahi's flustered state.

"Are you okay? Why do you seem so panicked?" you ask.

"I'm... I was just worried that's all," he quickly says, returning to where he was sweeping.

He really found his soulmate despite not believing in the butterfly soulmate thing anyway....

-

Asahi is really weird around you for the next week, not scolding you anymore but just being super quiet and seemingly cautious around you. Everyone is confused as to what happened to angry bird Asahi, and feeling a little worried yourself, you approach him in his office on your break one day.

"Is everything okay, Asahi?"

"Hm? Yeah... why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know... you just seem more quiet than usual."

Asahi stares at the ground, wondering if he should tell you about your shared birthmarks.

Ah heck, let's just go for it, he thinks to himself.

He swivels around in his hair, turning his back to you and holding up his hair at the back of his head.

"Does this look familiar to you?" he asks, pointing to the birthmark at the nape of his neck.

You gasp, feeling the back of your own neck.

The birthmark looks exactly the same...

"Wha-?"

"I don't know what to do. Because frankly, I don't believe in any of this soulmate crap, but we're really soulmates..." Asahi says.

Your eyes, on the other hand, are sparkling. You've believed in soulmates since the beginning and always wondered who would have the same birthmark as you. It's weird to think that angry bird Asahi is your soulmate, but you don't want to lose this chance.

"What else do we do but go on a date!" you say, hugging his arm out of excitement.

Asahi glares at you and you pull away, clearing your throat.

"Friday after work! Wait for me and we'll go somewhere," you say, excitedly leaving Asahi's office.

He places a hand on his heart, feeling it beat a little faster than usual.

-

Friday, you notice Asahi's hair is looking a little different - all straightened, neat and tidy. Asahi also doesn't fail to notice that you're looking a little fancier than your usual self. Even Junkyu bothers you about it, asking why you look really prim and proper today.

When Asahi's shift ends, he has an hour to kill until yours does, so he spends that time in his office at the back, watching you make pretty drinks with you latte art through the security cameras. He has a full view of your butterfly birthmark and suddenly wonders what it would be like if he was able to kiss it.

Finally as soon as your shift ends, you rush out, forgetting to say goodbye to everyone unlike you usually do, but also forgetting to punch out. Asahi reminds you to do that as soon as you step into his office. The way he smiles when you swing open the door, his teeth peeking out while his eyes hide away, makes you feel like he's happy to see you... though he's just giggling at your mistake.

Once you're punched out and ready to leave, you step out of there and take the bus to an art gallery that you've always wanted to explore. You notice Asahi staring down into your lap as you ride the bus, shyly looking at your hands, fidgeting his own and then looking away. You become the brave one for the both of you and take his hand in yours, smiling at the window when he looks at you.

You take your time looking at the artwork, both of you quietly walking while holding hands. You only talk to ask each other if you're ready to move on to the next piece.

After some time, though, Asahi speaks up and asks you if he can take a photo of you standing in front of a butterfly painting.

"Just keep looking at it and I'll take a photo from the back."

Once he stands behind you, you feel awkward and stiff in front of the camera, and it probably shows, as Asahi asks you to relax.

"Just be like you usually would!"

You try your best and Asahi eventually takes the photo.

"Can I see?" you ask him.

"Later," he says, smiling down at his phone.

On the floor below the gallery, there's a place to grab food and the two of you do just that, gushing about how cool the art in the gallery was and what your favourite pieces were. Asahi tries to imitate this robot statue you saw made of metal, and it makes you laugh so hard that you almost get kicked out.

"Asahi, I never thought you would be this fun," you say.

"Well, at work I do have to be somewhat professional," he says, smiling at you.

"At work you're just a jerk," you mumble, thinking Asahi can't hear you, even though he does.

He decides to stop being so hard on you at work, and actually follows through. Work becomes more enjoyable without angry bird Asahi and with all of the dates you go one with Asahi after work. Eventually, the two of you start to officially date, and Junkyu is shocked to his core.

"H-how did this happen...? And why did no one tell me!" he screeches when he finds out.

-

Asahi presses his lips to the back of your neck in the dark of the room, his lips curving into a smile when he hears your giggle.

"What are you doing, Sahi?"

"Something I've always wanted to do," he says, burying his face into your chest.

It's his turn to giggle as you run your fingers through his hair, tracing his butterfly birthmark with your finger.

[heavenunderthemoon]

Dollface

Summary: After the death of her two brother, reader feels as though she must become the perfect child. She reaches her breaking point at a night at Rossi’s. 

Warnings: mentions of suicide, depression, angst Your fingers grabbed at another stray hair, a desperate attempt to make an escape as you smoothed the rest into a nice, sleek ponytail. Grabbing it, you tucked it under the hair tie, breathing deeply through your nose as you stared back at the reflection.

You didn't like staring into the mirror. Staring into the mirror meant seeing your eyes, a rather odd statement when you really thought about it, but the reason you hated it all the same. You had to stare into those brown orbs, brown orbs you had inherited from your mother, and ones she had passed down not only to you, but to Ethan as well.

Ethan.

The name sent a shiver through your body.

He had passed just when you both had turned nine. He had been struggling for a while, ever since you could remember actually. For years, you had accompanied him on doctor appointments, consults after consults. Alex Blake was no quitter, and she had fought tooth and nail to find someone- anyone- to save her boy. In the end she hadn't succeeded. He had passed in his bed, only a couple feet away from you. Sometimes you could still hear her sobs, her wails of agony after she had found him, a mother losing her son, her baby. Sometimes it felt as though you had lost her that day too.

You forced the tips of your mouth to lean upward, the motion looking so foreign on your face that you couldn't help but stare. A smile. A true smile. When was the last time you had one of those? You recalled the time before Ethan started presenting symptoms, a time before his illness, before the unrelenting sadness that ran rampant throughout your house. Before your mother was driven insane, a linguist unable to name the one thing she hated so much, the one thing that took away one of her children. Before your father ran off, escaping to different countries under the guise of Doctors Without Borders. You knew why he really took that position, that he was so driven by his grief of losing Ethan that he ran off to find children he actually could save. And your mother? She didn't get much better. When she had lost Ethan she had lost a part of herself you weren't quite sure she would ever get back. A carefree, laid-back part of her, one that wouldn't run to the emergency room every time you had a cough. One that wouldn't demand an MRI every time you needed a physical checkup. One that didn't watch you so closely, close enough that you could feel her stare on you, whenever you played on the playground with the other children. Before the stares were less loving, more analytical, and every goodbye felt like your last.

Your lips dropped down, eyes remaining on yourself.

Nothing was wrong with you of course, but your mother could never be sure. Losing one child was enough, the fear of losing her second drove her over the edge.

And so, you played along.

You pretended you didn't want to play baseball with the kids in the neighborhood, taking a liking to books instead. You pretended you didn't want to go out, or play in the rain, or step in puddles, or touch frogs. Childhood was non-existent, and for you, that was just how it had to be, because you didn't want to drive her mother any madder than she already was.

Your hands dropped to your sides, smoothing the sides of your pants with your hands, a nervous tick, but comforting nonetheless.

An evening at Rossi's. The invitation alone was enough to make you want to scream.

As awful as it sounded, you hated when your mother was home. Since you had turned seventeen, you were trusted enough to stay home alone when your mother was out on cases, so long as you FaceTimed every night and the neighbors could check on you in the morning. And, with your father away you were left to your own devices. You relished in the feeling of being alone. You liked being able to emerge from your room without that heaviness dragging you down, the weight of your mother's morbid stare, the one that made you think that perhaps you were dying and you just didn't know it, enough to make you feel an onslaught of loneliness. When your mother was gone, you were able to watch tv with the volume all the way up, or order pizzas with extra cheese. You could let the dishes pile up and leave the laundry to fester.

And then when your mother came home it felt like everything in the air was sucked up all over again. Like all the walls were caving in, the world was ending, and once more you were dying.

"Y/N! Time to go!"

You glanced at yourself one more time. Clothes ironed perfectly, a crisp button down tucked into a pleated skirt, hair pinned and proper. A doll. A perfect little doll ready to be played with.

You turned off the bathroom light, grabbing your purse.

"Coming, Mother."

-

"My mom speaks very highly of you all, it's nice to finally meet you." You spoke with a sense of tranquility that the team wasn't quite expecting. Though, to be honest, they weren't precisely sure what to expect when they had caught wind that Alex was finally bringing her daughter to an event. Typically, you were too busy.

Studying for school, babysitting for children around the neighborhood, getting ahead in your classes, attending chess club, book club, anything and everything that had made their lips part, eyebrows furrowing because you were just a child but the way she spoke about you made you seem so...refined. Independent. Not a child.

Your peers had said the same things- behind your back, of course. You didn't have many friends. Being the perfect child didn't give you much time to make those, and you weren't good at it anyways. The teachers had always praised you, admiring you for your perfectionism. Your straight A's, good temperament, and ability to surpass the school's curriculum had you earning your teachers' result rather quickly but it had soon turned to sympathy. They had begun to notice how your posture was always straight, how your pens were always in alignment, how you never spoke unless answering an academic question.

Sometimes, they would watch you, just to see if you would suddenly sneeze and ruin that perfect mirage that you displayed to the world. But you never did, not really. You were a doll. You were picture perfect and they had previously found that quality a little endearing but now they just felt pity, because how many times had that doll felt like she wasn't enough in order to make it appear as so?

Met with enthusiasm, you smiled along as the night progressed, making light conversation with your mother's team. They were nice enough, and you tried not to let along how painful your smiles began to be. It wasn't long before you had excused yourself to a smaller room, bringing out the school work you had brought along to get out of the way.

it was an art project, your least favorite subject. Art, your teacher had stated, is an expression of emotion. There were no rules, no tips, no studying to help you along. Either you had it, or you didn't. You definitely did not.

The noise of the party chattered against your brain as your teeth began their assault against your lip, biting down hard as your eraser grated against the paper once more. With a frustrated grunt, you tried again, the circle coming out just as uneven as the last time.

Spencer must've noticed you out on the patio by yourself. He excused himself from the party, approaching you slowly.

"Hey."

You knew he was being nice. He was mingling and from what you mother had told you about him he didn't do it often so you were trying your very best to not snap at him, your agitation at an all time high due to the failure of your art project.

"Hello."

Your eyes were still on your paper, trying to salvage something- anything- from this artwork but it was futile. Every time you added something it made it worse and every time you removed something it looked empty and you were beginning to get frustrated. You hated art, you wanted to drop it, but it was a requirement. A stupid, useless class, in your opinion (though maybe it was biased due to your inability to do it). Your heart rate quickened at the thought of getting anything lower than an A on this piece. Your grade was already at a 92, that in itself was enough to make your head spin but what if you got a B on this work and it brought your overall grade down? What if you received your first ever B? What would your mother say then?

Spencer was watching you with curious eyes. He saw a bit of himself in you ever since you had arrived, though that isn't all a good thing. He saw an intelligent, capable girl who put far too much pressure on himself. A girl who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. A girl who refused to ask for help.

And now, your breaths becoming ragged and eyes unfocused, he saw you, really saw you. Your eraser was grinding against there paper and in your anger it ripped it, your lips parting at the action. As bad as it had been this was even worse because now you sound have to start over.

Starting over meant setting you back at least three days in work and you were supposed to have this assignment done by tonight to get ahead for other classes tomorrow.

"Y/N? Y/N you need to breathe, take a break from you're homework, it's okay-"

You had forgotten that Spencer was there in all honesty, but now that he was speaking you whipped toward him.

The words seemed to cut through you like a knife and you shot an incredulous look at the man. "Okay? It's not okay! I can't take a break because I needed to get it done by tonight! I need to write a paper and get ahead in physics so that I can make time for babysitting, and attend lectures, and sit in on mom's classes and-"

Your hands were balled now, clenching into fists and Spencer was reaching for them.

"Look at me, take a breath-"

"This stupid art project, it didn't look good-"

"It looked fine-" Spencer tried, and he could tell that the two of you were attracting attention now because he could feel eyes flitting to the back door windows and he knew for certain that Alex would be here soon but none of it seemed to register for you because your eyes were far too panicked and cheeks too flushed.

"It can't be just fine, it needs to be perfect!" You broke. Your voice was louder than you had ever used with an adult and if you weren't  so far gone in your breakdown you surely would've apologized. The eraser in your hand dropped, fists unclenching to cover your ears because your thoughts were too loud. They were always too loud. Constant planning, scheduling ahead. Worries about your parents, your reputation, your next step. It came crashing over you.

Later, you would realize you were sobbing but for now, you were left to wonder why your throat was so sore.

"Y/N, you need to breathe, okay? Breathe. It doesn't need to be perfect, you're okay-"

Alex was relieving Spencer, and he retreated back into the house with a reassuring nod from Alex. The team sent worried looks, but looked away to give the two of you privacy. You hardly even noticed the change.

"Hey." Alex was taking your hands from your ears, eyes wide. She had never seen you like this, never seen you so distraught and it scared her. It terrified her to see you in such a state because, clearly, you weren't okay and you hadn't been for a while and how did she miss this? It scared her because ever since she could remember you had been such an easy child. A child who didn't ask for help, a child who didn't cry, who didn’t yell, who didn't ask for things. And was that a result of her?

"Hey, look at me. Look at me." Her finger was going under your chin, forcing it upward, forcing your eyes on hers and she was accentuating her breaths, making you take them with her. "What's going on, hm? Whats' going on, talk to me."

Maybe it was the softness in her tone, or the woe in your eyes, or maybe it was just exhaustion from constantly trying to be...everything and anything your mother could ask for, but you chose to tell the truth.

"I have to be perfect." And it was quiet. You could hear the water fountain somewhere far to your left, something Rossi apparently had put in two years ago, but you couldn't see it over the hedges. Alex rose a brow, not understanding and so you continued.  "I have to be perfect...for you."

And the Blake woman was gasping because how could her daughter even think that? How could she not see that her daughter was thinking that? "Honey, no-"

But you weren't letting her finish. "Yes, I do. I have to be the perfect child because you lost the other one. And I," You swallowed, sighing softly. "I can't be him for you."

"W-what?"

"Ever since he died I- he-...you were different. You and Dad both were, and I just wanted to make you happy so I tried to be good, I tried to be the best kid so that you wouldn't feel any sadder than you did."

"Oh, baby, you didn't have to do that-"

"Yes I did. When he died it was like every time you looked at me I was already dead I just didn't know it.  I've been dead for years. I think I might've died with him."

And you were breathing steadily now. You chest wasn't as tight, your mind wasn't as foggy but now your eyes were filled with tears. You cried because you had wanted to say these words for so long, you had wanted your mother back for an eternity snd now she was listening, now you were going to surrender yourself to imperfection.

"I never meant to make you feel like that, please-"

The tears fell across your cheeks, splayed out like a beautiful painting, a masterpiece created by you, a girl who thought that she was a horrible artist. Perhaps you weren't as horrible as you thought.

"I wish it was me instead of him. Because I can't take it. I can't keep doing this-"

Alex was shaking her head, gripping your cheeks in her hands now, because the words you were saying made it sound like she might lose you, made it sound like you might just dissolve under her touch. And all she felt right now was dread. "Don't say that."

"The classes, the perfectionism, I'm...I'm just so tired."

"Baby, please. I'm, I'm so sorry." And that thought entered your mind once more, that perhaps you were a wonderful little artists because kneeling before you now was a tragically beautiful piece of art. A grieving mother, wet cheeks piling up by the minute, eyes filled with some kind of morose morbidity and that was something you had created.

"I'm a perfect little girl in a perfect little house. We all play pretend that Ethan didn't exist-"

"Y/N Y/M/N." Alex was trying, begging you to stop because it hurt. It pained her because Ethan died of something no one knew about but you? You were dying because of her.

"It's alright. I'm just so tired of all the pretending. I wish Ethan and I could swap places, because then he could be playing pretend and I can just...relax."

Where to go from here? The two of you sat on that patio under the watch of the stars, under the protection of the moonlight. What might happen when the sun touched your faces once more?

You doll wasn't so perfect anymore. Perhaps she would never be again.

TAGLIST: @bubblyabs @spencer-blake-supremacy 

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[1:16 pm]

You hummed under your breath, the tiny brush gently coating your nail in white nail polish. Your focus on keeping your fingers free of polish was aided by the calming music and overall silence of the room. Though the concentration was broken quite quickly.

“Hey babe- woah! It smells strong in here! What are you doing?” Taeyong asked loudly, making you jump which made you miss your nail entirely and now painting your finger instead.

You sighed, “Hi bubu, I was just painting my nails.” You reached for the nail polish remover and a cotton ball, well, at least you had only painted a few nails on one hand. 

He smiled as he took the wet cotton ball from you and began to remove the nail polish for you, “Can I do your nails baby?”

You looked at him confused and a bit skeptically before you shrugged, “Why not?” He was an artist after all. 

His smile was blinding as he looked through the nail polishes on the desk while he excitedly spewed out every idea that came to mind. Animal print? Polka dots? Stripes? Every nail a different color? 

“Just do whatever you want, you are an artiste bubu.” You smiled at him. 

He laughed, finally deciding on all the colors and tools he would need. “I want it to be a surprise so don’t look until I’m done, okay?” He instructed as he chose a youtube video to distract you while he got to work.

He made his odd little noises as you felt the layers of polish on every nail, until at the very end you felt him blow on your nails to dry them. “Are you ready to see?”

You nodded excitedly pulling your hands away from the desk to look at his work. The mix of colors was a beautiful mess, colors and strokes from different sized brushes you wouldn’t have ever thought to do or even be able to do for yourself. 

“These are my favorite,” You smiled, holding out your ring and pinky finger to Taeyong. Your ring finger was decorated in messy red and blue stripes with little smiley faces of different colors. 

“I didn’t even think I could sign this small, but an artist always signs his work.” Taeyong smiled, looking closely at his work on your pinky nail- every color he had chosen a strategic mess of color splotches with a small “TY” as the focal point. 

“There’s no way I can ever top these, all my nails after this will be so boring.”

“I can just do them for you baby,” Taeyong offered with a kind smile before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek and helping you collect all the nail supplies. 

You smiled, pressing loving pecks to his reddening cheeks, “thank you bubu, you’re the best artist on the planet. Ever.” 

“Put your hands down- as much as I would love a proper kiss right now, I can’t have you ruining my artwork.”

-

Every idea in my drafts seems to be blurb/timestamp style so I think I’ll be posting more frequently. Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Our Doll 2//Awake

B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?

sequel Series to Their Doll

Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes

Chapter Summary | y/n finds a way to cope with the stress

Warnings | smut, vaginal sex, swearing, mentions of drug usage

A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"G'morning, baby." Steve mumbled huskily, one eye opening into a squint so her could look at me without being blinded by the unforgiving sun spilling like water through the curtains that we may or may not have forgotten to close in our lustful hurry last night.

"Morning." I whispered back, fully aware of the brunet super soldier laying peacefully asleep behind me, cool metal arm sling over my waist atop the duvet. His hot, steady breath fanned over my neck, his nose buried into my hair. I was laying on my side, simply watching steve as he slept until he had clearly awoken.

"It's rude to stare, you know." He mumbled back lazily, eyes finally fluttering open. A wide smile played on my lips, as it always did when I could look so deeply into those ocean blue eyes.

"Sorry." I smile back, eyes pleading. A chuckle, low and rumbling, came from Steve at the sound of my disjointed, broken morning voice. "Hey!" I whisper-shouted, untucking my hand from under my head to slap Steve's bare chest, but he caught my wrist with ease. He slowly pulled it up to his face, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand, lips feathering against my skin.

"Now I'm sorry. I somehow forgot how you're still recovering." Steve apologised, continuing to press his lips to my hand, eyes looking into mine. I shuddered slightly, letting my free hand raise to my neck, my fingers dancing faintly over the long, horizontal scar spanning the space. The memory, the pain, still haunted me. Haunted me like a ghost that was sent for me, and only me. My dreams had often been filled with these images - ones of a flashing silver blade, sinister splatters of blood, grotesque and open wounds. The thought made me shudder again, as if to shake off the bad memories.

"You know that one won't be awake for a while." I mumbled, taking a glance at the clock over Steve's shoulder, seeing that it was barely nine am. Steve smiled against my hand, eyes loving.

"I know. So why don't we have a little fun while we wait?" He grinned, almost boyishly, a level of lust clouding the pure blue that usually dazzled across his eyes. I quirked a brow, expectantly, as Steve kept looking at my mischievously from under his long lashes, lips travelling quickly towards my neck.

He grabbed my other wrist, chuckling lowly as I giggled when he flipped us, gently pulling me from Bucky's grasp which earnest us a longing groan but not even a stir, before I was under Captain America in his bed.

Steve's lips didn't leave my skin once, his skin soft against mine as put naked bodies rutted into one another, my head thrown against the pillows now as I felt the surge of arousal pang at my core. One of this thick fingers traced my slit, circling my cliff lightly before he was pulling it away, offering the digit for me to lick clean. I moan at my taste, the sound matching Steve's groan as his cock hardened watching my suck off his finger.

"Ready baby?" He breathed, lining himself up with my dripping heat and pushing in when I whispered with a nod. His palm covered my mouth, strangling my moans and muffling any noise as he begun to thrust, slow but hard, the headboard slowly knocking into the wall behind us. The thumping of wood against plaster only made me more aroused, the realisation of how strong to man above me actually was.

With his free hand, Steve ran his fingers over my arm and up my wrist, before tangling them with mine and pressing my hand into the pillow beside me face, gripping me tight. His face was buried in the joint where my neck and shoulder met, his soft grunts disguised by my flesh as he bit down on my skin to keep himself quiet. My other hand claws at his back, harsh enough for boy of us to know there'd be lines down his back when this was done.

The trimmed patch of hair at the base of his cock scraped across my clit with every thrust, sending jolts of pleasure through me and causing stars to cloud my vision.

It was obvious we were both getting close when we heard Bucky speak.

"Getting started without me?" His raspy husk of a morning voice pondered, the bed dipping by my shoulder as he propped himself up on a fore arm. Steve groaned, lifting his face from my neck and turning it to the side, giving Bucky a glare. But his hips never stopped moving into mine. In fact, they only seemed to speed up, his pelvis slapping into mine hard enough to leave bruises.

"Don't mind me. I think it's a rather lovely sight to wake up to." Bucky grinned, his tongue tracing his bottom lip as he watch steve lift his palm from my mouth, tangling his hand with mine as a jumble of moans and pleas finally fell from my lips. "Make her cum."

And with those words alone I was seeing white splotches across my vision, my hips bucking up desperately and Steve threw his head back, the tightness of my walls from my orgasm causing his own.

"F-fuck! Y/n!" He moaned loudly, collapsing on top of me as he painted my walls with his seed. My eyes were still lost somewhere in my skull, chest heaving as I slowly ran my fingers through Steve's hair, his head resting against my chest.

"How about we fill in Bucky on what he's missed?" Steve murmured in my ear, teeth nipping along my neck, a smirk tugging at our lips.

...

Pulling her hood up further over her head, y/n quickened her steps. One of the other downsides that came from the night Bucky returned was that her face was now well know. With the amount of reporters and just cameras in general that were at the party her dad had originally thrown to celebrate the first proper steps of her recovery, y/n's face was probably the most well-know one in New York second to maybe only Tony Stark's himself.

The pavement slapped beneath the rubber soles on her shoes, the dirtied black trainers helping y/n blend in against the see of clearly struggling people. Her eyes stayed narrow, fixated on my target as she eyed the small alleyway, three doors away from Benjies, a little run-down cafe that no one wanted to buy and no one could afford to buy. The bricks swallowed any hint of safety, dark shadows lurked almost as anxiously as the people they concealed.

Sharply turning on her heel, y/n pivoted into the dingy space between two broken buildings, litters of waste, used joints and other miscellaneous junk scattered the crumbled tarmac floor, the gaps between bricks stuffed full with moss and wrappers whilst the bricks themselves were marked up with paints of all colours, forming poetic pieces of scrabbling artwork that decorated the discarded buildings.

Y/n cleared her throat, nerves bubbling as she approached the also hooded-figure who was leant casually against the left wall, giving the illusion he knew it well. But y/n could tell from the way his slender body was slightly tensed, brown eyes darting as the drips of clinging water shattered against stone and the way his hand rested over the side of his thigh - ready to pull out the small gun at a splits second notice that he was only once familiar with this place, but had neglected it - even fled it, for a long while now.

"You sure you wanna do this, kid?" His voice was soothing, a complete contrast to y/n's abused, scratchy one as she gritted through her teeth,

"Don't tell me what to do, Sam. You promised you'd give me the name of your supplier, no questions asked." She ground the last words out, hands falling from her pockets and balling to fists at her side. Sam sighed deeply, pushing himself from the wall and sauntering closer, closing the gap between him and y/n as he rolled his eyes obnoxiously at her irked stance.

"I know, just consider what you're doing. This shit can really fuck you up, I stopped for a reason." Sam suggested, fingers curling over her shoulder his his hand settled there, a comforting gesture.

"I know what I'm doing. I just- I can't keep up with the stress." Y/n admitted, a vulnerable crunch behind her grit teeth as she tried to spit the words out. Sam held his hands up in surrender, backing up a step when he saw the dangerous lurk to y/n's eyes.

"I know, I know." He offered a small smile, dipping a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and fishing out a small slip of paper, torn edges and all. He crammed the piece into y/n's waiting hand, but didn't let go as he looked directly into her eyes. "I'm sorry. I know it's tough, and I get why. Hell, it's exactly what I did. But it's a steep slope, one that few get off of." He warned.

"I understand, are we done now?" Y/n scoffed, her indifference unnerving yet the facade held cracks that few could see.

"Just don't let your boys know I gave that number to you. I know both of them would give me hell if they ever found out I was involved." Sam requested, and y/n gave him a cert nod.

"They won't find out. Promise." Y/n even punctuated her words with a tight smile, although it didn't quite touch her eyes. Sam returned the gesture, all be it slightly warmer, before he was brushing past her, clearly desperate to leave the little alleyway before anyone could catch him.

[rikumorimachisgirl]

Title: Eyes on you

Pairing: Shaw x You

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2,901

A/N: You (Y/N) are not the MC in MLQC. This is a plunny that's been bugging me for quite a while, I had to write it. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own MLQC or its characters, but I do own the concept of this fic.

There were a few mysteries in this world that the esteemed Archeology Graduate Professors at Loveland University can't explain - for instance, the formation of the Stonehenge, the exact location of the lost city of Atlantis, the origin of the Nazca lines… and your presence at the Metro Art Gala dressed to the nines, positively gleaming as you strode arm in arm with your classmate and Thesis partner Shaw, who seemed like the perfect gentleman that evening. Thanks to your work at the Loveland Museum, you scored two invites to the gala featuring the recently discovered works of a well-known artist - an event any Archeology fanatic wouldn't let pass. The two of you walked along with LFG's Exhibition Hall, pausing occasionally to admire one of the recently discovered sculptures by the Renaissance artist D'Romani. As you both looked at the intricacies of the artwork in front of you, your charming companion would lean in slightly and whisper something in your ear, causing you to roll your eyes or stifle a giggle. 

To the guests in the prestigious gala, the two of you looked like two young people at the cusp of falling in love, but the members of the Faculty of the Graduate School of Archeology saw it differently - this was a real-life mystery if they'd seen one. 

As your eyes swiftly swept through the entire room, you could see that your professors only had one question in mind - how'd this happen? How did two people as different as day and night, who argued with each other throughout Graduate studies, end up amiably enjoying each other's company tonight? 

You drew a sharp breath and sighed. The answer was simple: Your Thesis defense was right around the corner. You needed him to cooperate, you were willing to go to great lengths to make it happen. And your Thesis partner (unfortunately) was ready to take full advantage of the situation. 

***

"Tell me why we're doing this again, " you said through the door that separated you and your date, as you were putting on the dress you bought (or invested on, as he casually stated) for tonight's gala, which he insisted on attending with you. It was six in the evening on a Friday, and you had just arrived home after cramming your workload at the Loveland Museum and foregoing your meal breaks just so you could leave work at exactly five-thirty. 

"I already told you a couple of times - you want me to cooperate with you so you can pass our Thesis, and I need a reason to be around her," the purple-haired man waiting at the other side of your bedroom door called out nonchalantly. "You can drop your fantasy about me asking you out because I'm attracted to you."

You hissed silently at his snarky remark and counted to ten. You haven't even left your apartment yet you already wanted this night to be over. "How do you even know she's gonna be there?"

She - the Miracle Finder Producer, the object of your Thesis Partner's fantasies, and as fate would have it, his brother's girlfriend. 

"They're doing a show featuring our Thesis adviser. Didn't he tell us about it during our last consultation?" He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I wasn't listening," you shot back, as you took off your ponytail and started styling your hair with your curling iron. You chose a one-shoulder fitted black dress that stops right above your knees, so you thought of wearing your hair down for a change. 

"Ah, yes. You were too busy looking at your notes, trying to prove me wrong as always."

You closed your eyes, as you continued to make big beach waves and prayed to the gods you wouldn't commit murder tonight. 

"How much longer are you gonna take?"

"Excited much?" You asked, smirking while you now removed your glasses and put on your contacts. "You sound like a teenager excited to see his crush in a school fair!"

"Don't compare me to you!" 

"I don't have designs on anyone in the party," you called back. "Unless your brother's attending the event, that is. From what you've been telling me, he seems like a great guy."

Silence. You arched an eyebrow as you strained your ear to listen for any sign of life outside your bedroom door. What must your grunge-rock skater boy-turned-date-for-the-evening be thinking? 

"Do you want to pass our Thesis or not?"

You struck a victory pose at his remark. Finally, one point - you, Shaw - about twenty. 

"Are you done yet? This suit is really uncomfortable. Damn, why do people even wear these?"

"Because they're decent?" You shot back. "You know, you can always go home if you're not comfortable in your attire because when we get there, you need to act decent, too. Can't have your usual swagger in a formal affair."

"Just hurry it up already!"

You rolled your eyes as you applied your nude-colored lipstick to finish off your look before putting on your black stilettos, and stuffing your phone, wallet, and your makeup in your purse. 

"All done," you replied, as you finally emerged from your room. 

***

A part of you wished that the dynamics between you and Shaw were different. While he was a pain in the neck, and too carefree for his own good, you also thought he made for a good intellectual sparring partner, quite attractive, and it was hard to deny that he's got your heart beating double-time whenever he got too close for comfort like he was at that very moment. 

"My, you two kids seem to be having fun tonight."

You gasped, at the sound of the voice behind you, and you felt your date nudge you ever-so-subtly while straightening.

"Hey, Professor Adler," he said in his usual unruffled tone, his lips stretched into a smirk as he held his hand out to your Anthropology professor and Thesis adviser, who watched you both amusedly. His gesture made your eyes shot wide open, you thought they'd fall right off. Shaw shaking someone's hand? That's one for the books. 

"Shaw. Fancy seeing you here," the stout middle-aged man greeted while shaking your date's hand. "This isn't your usual scene though."

"Yeah, I know, but I can't exactly turn a pretty lady down, can I?" 

"I can see that," your professor said as he looked at you appraisingly. "Well, well, you clean up well, Miss (y/n)."

You fought the urge to squirm at the older man's words when you heard your date cluck his cheeks with his tongue and suddenly felt his arm around your shoulders, pressing you protectively close to his side. 

***

"All done!" You happily announced as you stepped into the living room of your small apartment where your date was impatiently waiting for you. 

You could've sworn he was stunned for a second or two before he shook his head and tried to regain his usual impassive expression. Finally, he stood and walked closer to assess you better. 

"You're not wearing your glasses. I thought you said you're practically blind without them?" 

You cocked your head to one side. Out of all the things he could've complimented or called out, that's the first thing he noticed? 

"Wouldn't it look awkward if I wore glasses to a formal event?"

"Your hair is all curly," he continued as if you didn't say anything. "And your shoes are so tall, won't you trip? Also, surely you have a jacket to go with that dress, right?" 

You stared at him in disbelief. Why did this carefree, bass-playing skater boy turn into your dad all of a sudden? 

"Uh…"

"Well, at least you're not wearing red lipstick. You don't have to try too hard to look sexy. Geez! I've got plans of my own this evening, so don't expect me to be your bodyguard," he continued to mumble as he circled around you. Before long, you felt something warm and heavy on your shoulder. His coat?

"It's just until we get to the venue," he shrugged as he led you to the car he borrowed for tonight. "I don't want people seeing you freeze to death."

You sighed, your shoulders slumped as you followed your date to the car. You already expected he wouldn't throw you a compliment for looking like a proper human tonight, and you cursed yourself for feeling gutted over it anyway. 

 ***

"So, which one of these sculptures did you like best, Professor?" You sighed in relief as Shaw changed the subject, his arm still wrapped around you, making you blush furiously. 

"Oh, I have to say I liked Eros and Psyche best. In case you haven't seen it yet, it's located a little further down the hall near the bar area," the older man was starting to explain when someone tapped his shoulder from behind. 

"Excuse me, Professor Adler," a gentle voice called out, making both the professor and Shaw jump. From behind the old man, a pretty petite with brown hair and big brown eyes, and the biggest smile on her face stepped up. "My name is MC from Miracle Finder."

Almost immediately, Shaw withdrew his arm around you, almost causing you to stagger backward. He straightened up and feigned disinterest. 

"Hey. It's a little rude how you stepped in while I was talking to the Professor," he said, his tone teasing. 

"Oh, I didn't notice you here. Do you mind if I talk to your Professor? We've invited him for an interview about the exhibit," the girl said sweetly. 

Based on how unconsciously coy she acted around Shaw, and the way he kept egging her, there was no doubt that this was the girl he was crushing on. You felt like the odd person out all of a sudden and needed to step away. 

You backed away slowly, careful not to rouse their attention because it would probably suck if you knew how Shaw would introduce you to his little crush. As soon as you were in a safe distance, you turned and walked aimlessly down the hall, pausing briefly at paintings or sculptures that caught your fancy, looking at its intricacies as you did so earlier. But somehow, it wasn't as fun as it was before, so you moved on quickly, to give way to the other guests who also wanted to view the artwork.

Finally, you came upon the bar and decided to rest your tired feet at the far corner, hidden from the rest of the world. Sighing, you slipped your feet off your stilettos and quietly watched as the guests around you - mostly couples - happily chatting away as they enjoyed the beauty of the art around them and the wonderful music that filled the air. You knew somewhere in the crowd, your date was fawning over his lady love, probably getting in the way of her filming your professor. 

Tch. 

You knew he liked her - he always told you he did. And why wouldn't he? MC was pretty, seemingly sweet, and dainty - the kind of girl any guy would like to protect. And you. You were the opposite. You lived for your work, were 'one of the boys', and didn't need anyone to protect you - that's just how you were - and now you started to realize that maybe guys don't exactly like that. At least not Shaw. 

Wait, what were you thinking? You scolded yourself as you shook your head. Why were you even thinking of what he liked when you don't even like him to start with. Or did you? 

"Ugh. What the hell is wrong with me?" You groaned when a cold bottle of beer and a frozen glass was placed in front of you. 

"I was gonna ask you that myself." 

You straightened up in your seat and shot a look at the guy seated beside you. Dressed in a nice grey suit, he smiled as he raised his beer bottle in front of you. 

"You look like you needed a drink. I hope the beer is okay. They don't have fruit beer or soda," he said calmly, his amber-colored eyes never leaving yours. 

"Y-yeah. Beer is perfect," you replied while pouring the amber liquid into the glass. "Thanks," you muttered before raising the glass to your lips to gulp down some liquid courage. 

"I saw you with Shaw earlier -"

The name on his lips drove you to a coughing fit, as you choked on your drink. "Sorry, " you mumbled in between coughs. 

"No, I'm sorry," the brown-haired guy said, as he cautiously and politely patted your back. "I didn't mean to bring that up. I was just curious."

"It's fine," you replied when you finally regained your composure. "Yes, we're just classmates in Grad school who decided to check this exhibit out for the heck of it."

"Classmates, huh?"

"Yeah, that's what we are," you said, taking a sip off your glass. "Grad school classmates."

"Are you telling me or telling yourself?"

You looked up and saw him smiling. There was something about Dreamy McHandsome who was seated beside you that felt so familiar yet different at the same time, but you couldn't point a finger at what it was exactly. 

"We're classmates, and we're working on our thesis together. But we're not friends - far from it even. We hate each other's guts."

"Can't blame you for doing so," he shrugged as he drank his beer. 

"Yeah. He dragged me here so he can get with someone he's been crushing on for so long," you rambled on, frowning. 

"Oh? And who might that be?"

"The Miracle Finder Producer. You know, the pretty girl in a blue top and white skirt. He's been going on and on about her for weeks…"

"You mean my girlfriend?" 

His girlfriend. You choked on your drink once again. "Y-y-your girlfriend? You mean to say…" You gasped. Has the beer made you stupid? You've barely drunk half of it, you thought as you fought to regain your dignity. This was Shaw's brother you were talking to - and boy, we're they blessed with good genes…

… And the same social awkwardness, you noticed, judging by how he kept his hand at your back, but not exactly touching it, as if trying to assess if he had to pat you or not. 

When you finally calmed down, he cleared his throat and gave you a small smile. "Don't worry. She talks to me about their conversations. I know what that guy is playing at, and I most definitely know he's not after my girl," he said, his voice broke no room for doubt. "My name is Gavin..."

"Yeah, I know…"

"You - what?"

"Oh," you said, tapping on your glass nervously. "Shaw kinda mentioned it in passing before."

"I see."

"So, what were you saying earlier about Shaw?"

"Oh. From what my girlfriend tells me, he's got his sights set on…"

"Ahem," you heard someone say loud enough for you and Gavin to turn your heads around. And there, standing behind you, was an angry-looking Shaw. You sat up, your gaze shifting between the two brothers as the air started to thicken with tension. "I talk to someone for a minute and the next thing I knew, my date walks out on me and right into the one person I'd hate for her to meet."

"Well, if you were just honest with her as with a lot of other things in your life, maybe she wouldn't have left your side earlier," Gavin retorted flippantly. "Is she finally done with filming?"

Shaw simply grunted in reply as he watched his older brother finish his bottle of beer and stand. "Well, Miss, there's a lot I've heard about you. Seems somebody couldn't stop talking about you, but I'll leave it at that." 

With a wink and a mischievous smile upon his face, the brown-haired guy sauntered off to look for his better half, as you and Shaw watched in awkward silence. 

He cleared his throat and glanced at you. "Hey."

"Hey," you replied, shakily. 

"So, about what that jerk said -"

"Yes?" You asked, feeling your heart hammer against your chest by the second.

"Whatever he said is not true," he said dismissively, as he took his coat off and draped it over your shoulders. "I told you before, I don't find you the least bit attractive."

You felt tears starting to sting your eyes, as he continued with his harsh commentary. "You're tough, highly opinionated, and you always want to come out on top. I don't find those attractive at all," he said. "I prefer a damsel in distress. I want someone clingy… someone, needy."

"I know that -"

"Oh do you?" He teased, his amber eyes twinkling. "You seem to know a lot about me."

"We've been working together for months now," you said. "Of course, I'd know more about you."

"I see," he said, as he took a step closer to you and touched your cheek, rubbing the stray tear that had managed to slip down the side of your face. "So, you must know I'm also a good liar. After all, I've kept all these feelings to myself for quite some time."

He snickered when he saw your frown deepen and he bent down just as he had done so earlier, to whisper. "I made you think I liked someone else when in fact," his low voice made you shiver. "I've always eyes for you."

The End.

[0willowwisp0]

Hey guys today I just wanna talk about something that pisses me off.

Please read to the bottom.

This bullshit

This. To most people it would seem normal, it’s a basic TikTok post, but what most artist see is a uncredited piece of artwork that most likely has more likes and reblogs/reshares than the original.

And I want to talk about why this is a big problem in the art community.

Artist spends hours to days working on art pieces, sometimes it could be a personal drawing they made for someone! And for it to be snatched off the internet, reposted, and for it to get more attention then the original is 1. Disgusting and disrespectful as all hell and 2. It’s annoying as hell.

This is a big thing on TikTok, Instagram, Tumblr, and Pinterest, I’ve seen a lot of my favorite artists art being reposted on there (old and new) and it pisses me off every time I see that there is no credit.

I’ve seen all the excuses “Their name is in the corner” “They didn’t know who it was by” “Credit to Pinterest, Google, etc” THATS NOT FUCKING CREDIT!

What proper credit would look like is-

⬇️

See, the artist name is there and where you can find them is also there.

That is proper crediting.

I have a lot of mixed feelings about reposting, on one hand I like reposting because it has helped me a lot find new artists but on the other hand I absolutely hate it because people don’t like to credit the artist properly.

And with this final note I’m done with my ranting, if you wish to argue with me (On here or on TikTok) dont bother because I will block you, your reasons for stealing art are bullshit.

Also don’t come at me with the “But idk how to find the original artist”

I have another post with two very useful links to websites that can help you with finding artists.

Sorry it’s so fucking rushed but I needed to get this out of my head.

[whispering-raine]

Heartbreak - A Sanders Sides oneshot

((TWS: HEART BREAK (yes that means that Patton is affected), PANIC ATTACK, BEING SICK, BLOOD, FEVER, PUKE, MENTIONS OF AN ARGUMENT, DESCRIPTIVE GORE/WOUNDS, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, BLOODY ARTWORK AT THE END

3rd person POV:

Roman awoke, his eyes fluttering open as he examined his surroundings. He had fallen asleep in Pattons room the night before, so this was different from the normal scenery that covered the room he would usually wake up in. Family photos of the sides displayed in picture frames, kids toys lying everywhere but his desk, which was covered in random pieces of paper and probably a few recipes for cookies and other treats. Pattons room had become Romans safe space, and vise versa.

"Good morning, my dear~" Roman whispered, giving Patton a small kiss on his forehead. Patton gave a happy hum in his sleep, a soft smile following.

But something was off. His forehead was just a bit warmer than usual. His cheeks were tinted just a bit more pink than he was used to seeing. Roman sent a sympathetic look over towards the sleeping boy, walking out of the room.

He walked towards the bathroom down the hall, teaching into the medicine cabinet and grabbing a thermometer. He walked back, Patton still sleeping and hugging a stuffed animal.

Sweat was beaded on his face, which still held a tired smile, disregarding the shape he was in. Roman was careful to be quiet, holding the speaker of the thermometer to muffle the noise as he swiped the metal across Pattons forehead quickly. 102.1*

He muttered a quick "Shit." before taking the thermometer back to the bathroom. He quickly washed it off with warm water, putting the cap back on and placing it in the medicine cabinet.

He rushed out to the kitchen, in which he saw Logan typing away on his phone and almost chugging his daily cup of black coffee.

"Logan." Roman addressed the logical side. Logan almost immediately noticed the uneasy look on Romans face.

"Ah, good morning Roman. Is something the matter?" Logan questioned, putting his almost empty cup to the side and turning off his phone, setting it down on the table quietly.

"Yeah, yeah something is the matter. Can individual sides get sick?" His breathing was starting to get out of pattern.

"Well, yes, I suppose so. Are you feeling unwell?" Logan said in a concerned tone, walking over to Roman and reaching up to place a hand on his forehead. Roman politely moved Logans hand away with his own.

"No, actually, Patton has a fever and I was making sure that this was normal."

"Patton?" Logan questioned curiously. Roman nodded, confirming what Logan had once been so curious about. Logan seemed to think for a second, adjusting his glasses quickly and standing up straighter, although gay.

"Well Nico and Thomas got into a bit of an argument last night, so that may be the cause of it. But I'll do some more research in a little while to do a better and more proper diagnosis." Logan said, sitting back down and taking another sip of his coffee.

"Thanks, Nerd." Roman said before leaving, going back to Pattons room. He was going to make Patton feel better no matter the cost. He walked back into his room, the door creaking the slightest. Roman sighed, a sad smile curling on his lips. He layed down next to his beloved, wrapping arms around him and giving him the softest hug he could manage.

"Mm," Patton hummed, slowly waking up.

"Hello darling.." Roman whispered, rubbing the smaller ones back lightly.

"Are you feeling alright? You have a fever.." Roman asked as he awaited patiently for a response.

Patton could only manage a small shake of his head, leaning farther into Romans touch. "I-Is...everyone else okay though..?" Patton slurred, his words muffled by Romans shirt.

"I'm pretty sure. I haven't checked on everyone, but Logan and I feel okay." Patton responded with a nod, almost falling back asleep in Romans arms.

But he was awoken by the voice again, "Would you like me to make you some tea...?" Patton thought for a moment, before giving a small nod.

"But I can make it myself. I don't want you to waste too much time on me." He insisted, tiredly rolling off of Roman to sit up. He leaned back on his palms, repressing a yawn. Roman sat up with him, putting an arm around his shoulders and rubbing his upper arm.

"You're in no condition to be doing that yourself. I can get it for you, I promise." Patton slid his hand over Romans, intertwining their fingers silently.

"I'll be fine."

"No you won't." Patton let out a chuckle, smiling up at Roman.

"Ro, I'm fine. I'll get right back into bed after I get my tea."

"Fine. Then let me see you stand on your own."

Patton grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand, slipping them on. Roman helped Patton to a standing position, holding him as if he were a kid learning how to ride a bike. Roman finally let go, although only inches apart from the swaying boy. Pattons knees immediately buckled, falling into Romans chest with barely any control of his own body.

"See? I'm fine!" Patton joked, lifting only his head from Romans chest. Roman couldn't help but smile at the smaller boy.

"And this is why I'm making your tea for you."

Patton let out a whine, burying his face back into Romans shirt. The both wrapped their arms around each other, Pattons hung down at Romans waist; and Romans wrapped around his shoulders.

"Come on, let me get you back into bed."

Patton gave in at this point, allowing Roman to pick him up and gracefully lay him back down onto the soft covers.

"I'll be right back."

Patton layed on his bed, trying to stop the world from spinning around him as he focussed on a stain on the ceiling. A few extra minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt, would it? Patton let his heavy eyelids shut as he curled into a ball, trying to get comfortable. He was almost immediately woken up by Roman walking in, holding a glass of tea. The glass had a cat paw pattern on it. It was always Pattons favorite.

"Hello my darling~" Romans voice rang throughout the room once again, placing the cup of tea on the bedside table.

"Hi, honey.." Patton mumbled, rolling over to face Roman. Roman smiled softly, laying down next to Patton.

"Cuddles?" Patton asked, holding his arms out and doing grabby hands. Roman couldn't help but blush at this, sweeping him into his arms and holding him. Patton giggled quietly, smiling and blushing.

"Do you know anything about what happened last night?" Roman spoke up.

"No, is everything okay?" Patton immediately grew concerned.

"Well Thomas and Nico got into a bit of an..argument...late last night." Realization struck Patton like a brick. He finally realized why he felt so horrible. Heartbreak. Then why hadn't the cracks shown up yet?

"Do you have a mirror I can borrow?" Patton asked, sitting up and rolling off of Roman.

"What?" Roman was beyond confused.

"It's complicated! I just need a mirror and quick!" Patton began to shake, worrying about almost everything at the exact moment. This has only happened one other time, and Patton was lucky to survive it. But that was years ago. Patton didn't know if he'd make it through this one. Heartbreak. Such a literal term in the sense of sides.

"I think there's a handheld one on my desk, but that's all the was across the hall. You'd be better off just going to the bathroom." Patton nodded, slowly getting up.

"Are you sure you're okay to walk? I don't want you getting hurt. I can go with you if-"

"I'm fine," He reassured, stumbling quickly out of the room. That left behind a very worried and confused Roman.

Patton ran to the bathroom, holding the wall as he did so. He slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it as he leaned on the marble counter. He brushed his bangs out of his face with his hand, seeing the smallest crack, starting at his hairline and going down onto his forehead.

"Shoot.."

Patton knew that when something like this happened, Virgil was always affected. Whether Thomas is anxious that Nico doesn't love him as much as he used to, or he's scared that they're going to break up, Virgil is going to be affected to some degree. Patton made sure to put his bangs back in place, going out of the bathroom and towards Virgils room.

He creeked open the door, not trying to scare his dark strange son. Virgils head shot up as soon as he heard the quiet noise. He took off his headphones in a rush as he paused his music.

"Hey Kiddo, can I come in..?" Patton asked gently, peeking his head in. Virgil could only nod and hum, not trusting his voice. Patton walked in, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, Pat." Virgil mumbled, his voice slightly distorted. The father figure was leaning on the door frame, keeping his balance. Patton gave a small wave, walking over to his bed and trying not to collapse on the way.

"Dad, are you alright? Last night Thomas-" Virgil said quickly, before Patton cut him off. Patton stayed silent, but moved his hand up to shove his bangs back and show the small crack - soon to grow bigger - to Virgil. Virgil let out a gasp, he swore his heart stopped for a second.

"I-It can't be happening again...! No! I-I won't let it happen!" Virgil had started crying. Patton let out a choked cough, before wiping Virgils tears away with the other hand. The only thing that could be heard was Virgils rapid breathing, until Patton spoke once again.

"I'm going to be okay Kiddo. Relax. Take a breather." He said as he held Virgils face. His own dizziness almost made him fall over as he scooted towards the scared and anxious boy. Virgil nodded, trying to get his breath back to normal. Patton put an arm around Virgil, rubbing his back in the slightest.

"Here Virge, copy my breathing." Patton took a deep, exaggerated breath, trying not to cough. Patton whispered small reassurances, such as "It's going to be okay." or "Breathe,".

They seemed to be working as Virgil slowly calmed down. Once Virgil could finally breathe again, he layed his head into Pattons shoulder, in which Patton brought up a hand to stroke his hair quietly.

"What if something bad happens to you?" Virgil mumbled, playing with his hoodie sleeves.

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, Kiddo." Patton said in a tone that was at least one octave down from his normal, cheery one.

It was too serious. And it scared Virgil.

"But Dad..." His voice began to distort again, "...I don't think I can live without you..." This brought on a whole new wave of tears for Virgil.

"Oh Kiddo... C'mere.. It's going to be okay.." Patton said as he wrapped his arms around Virgil as tight as he could without hurting him. Virgil gripped onto one of those arms as if Patton would disappear if he didn't. Patton could feel the crack expanding down towards his eyebrow, something he'd have to cover up later with makeup. But he decided to ignore it for now. Although a tear escaped his eye, he still managed to keep a calm smile on his face.

Meanwhile, Roman was talking with Logan in the kitchen once again.

"I guess I'm just...worried? The last time Patton was sick like this was..." Roman said, trying to remember when the time he was referencing was. Then it hit him, "Thomas' last breakup." It was almost under his shaking breath.

"What're you guys talking about?~" Remus sang, walking in with Janus.

"Oh! Janus! Just the guy I needed to see!" Logan exclaimed, ignoring Remus completely.

"Hm?" Janus cocked an eyebrow, confused but still paying careful attention.

"You were there at Thomas' and Nicos fight, correct?"

But Patton overheard everything. Of course it was Janus who would've been in the fight. He probably caused it in the first place. Another piece of his forehead cracked, leaving a terrible sight. He actually trusted Janus for once. And he was mad at himself for it.

A few minutes passed of overthinking and hugging Virgil. Patton, lost in his thought, barely even heard the small curse that came out of Virgils mouth.

"Shit, Pat, you're bleeding." Virgil muttered, his tears now dry, but the stains still on his cheeks. The hug had ended, apparently.

"Hm?" Patton was still busy thinking, only looking at Virgil in his peripheral view.

"Patton for Gods sake pay attention to me! You! Are! Bleeding!" Virgil raised his voice, done with Pattons bullshittery for today, even though it was only the morning.

"Wait what? Where?"

Virgil reached up towards Pattons forehead, wiping a dribble of the red, sticky liquid off of his warm skin. Virgil was shocked, gasping in the slightest. He put his other, uncontaminated hand on the other side of his forehead, making sure not to hit any of the cracks.

"You're burning up." Virgil whispered to himself, placing a soft hand on Pattons cheek.

"Oh, I would've never guessed!" Patton joked, giggling a bit.

"Have you taken your temperature at all??"

"Roman mentioned something about a fever when I woke up, but I'm not sure if he took it." Virgil thought for a moment, Pattons words finally registering in his head.

"You...slept with Roman...?" Virgil recoiled, making a disgusted face at Patton.

"Not the point, but yeah, I slept with him." Virgil shook his head, trying to get those thoughts out of his head.

"Just...lye down, I'm grabbing the thermometer." Virgil said as get got up.

"But this is your bed?" Patton wasn't upset by this, no, but he didn't want to intrude. Especially considering the fact that Virgil normally didn't like the other sides touching his stuff in the first place.

"And? You're laying down. You're swaying just sitting there. Did you think I couldn't see it?" Virgil growled, putting a firm hand on Pattons shoulder.

"No." His voice was fragile and weak. Virgil could feel his anxiety heighten at this. He's never seen Patton just this vulnerable before. He gave a slight force to Pattons shoulder, pushing him out of the sitting position he was in, and back onto the pillow. He had barely pushed. Just a mere pressure, almost less than gravity gave.

Patton let his legs stretch out naturally, not bothering to stop it from happening. Virgil gave a slight sympathetic chuckle, pulling a thin blanket over him from the end of his own bed.

"I'll be right back, 'kay Dad?"

"M'kay.." Patton mumbled, curling onto himself and gripping the blanket. Virgil gave one more glance towards the curled up figure on his dark bed before leaving the room.

He came almost face to face with a fuming Prince as soon as he stepped into the hallway.

"Well hello to you too, Princey." Virgil remarked sarcastically. Roman just grumbled.

"If that snake wouldn't have been the only side awake during the argument, this wouldn't have happened." Roman just now looked up at Virgil, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Fuck off, I was there, too." He slapped his arm playfully.

"Wait, seriously??" Roman almost yelled, making Virgil wince.

"Yup." He said in a monotone voice, trying to leave the conversation. He started to walk away, but Roman caught his hood, keeping him in place.

"What is it now?" He grumbled.

"Have you seen Patton?"

"Yeah, he's in my room resting."

"Is he oka-" Before Roman could finish that question, it was immediately answered by a scream, coming from Virgils room.

"Shit." Virgil immediately ran back into his room, swinging the door open. Roman followed close behind, worry filling his veins.

Patton was curled up in a tight ball, his hands held over his mouth as black liquid mixed with blood poured from it. Tears were streaming down his cheeks in a steady flow, mixing with the other two fluids. He could barely see, but he was able to quickly yell a, "It hurts!!" as he screwed his eyes shut. He was hit with another wave of pain as more blood poured down his forehead. The crack was at least two times bigger than Virgil had last seen, although he was gone for barely a minute.

"Help.." He whispered as Virgil ran over to him, but Roman was stuck at the door. He couldn't move. He didn't know how to.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. It's okay. I know it hurts. Breathe. Breathe for me." Virgil rambled, holding Patton tightly in his arms.

"V-Virge..?" Patton whispered as he gripped the fabric of his soft hoodie, letting out another, quieter sob. Virgil just nodded, allowing Patton soak his clothes with tears and blood, making a mental note to clean it off later.

Logan walked in, confused but mad.

"WHY IS EVERYONE..." he saw Patton, "...yelling..." he finished, mumbling.

Heartbreak. What everyone in that room felt. Patton. Virgil. Logan. But especially Roman.

He was having his own mini panic attack, still standing in the doorway with Logan. Logan put a soft hand on his upper arm, rubbing circles with his thumb.

"It's going to be alright, Roman. Can you take a deep breath with me?" Logan asked, gripping his shoulders firmly, but in a caring way, making sure to not let go.

Roman gave a hasty nod, looking Logan in the eyes.

"In," Logan started, mentally counting out 4 seconds exactly.

"Now hold," He said as he began to count 7 seconds.

"Now out." 8 seconds.

Logan gave a satisfied smile, "Good. Now, can you try that again?"

They did the breathing exercise for a few minutes, Logan still holding onto Romans shoulders. But Logan moved his hand a bit to wipe a stray tear that was dribbling down Romans cheek, making it dry once again.

But more tears poured as Roman shook Logan off, going to his boyfriend. Logan followed, not having much else to do. Patton had calmed down - thanks to Virgil - the slightest bit. He was still coughing up a bit of blood, and the unidentifiable black liquid from before, though. But he could actually breathe now without letting out another sob, so that's progress. Even if it's just a bit.

As soon as Patton realized that Roman was there, he crawled over to him, laying his head on his shoulder. Roman wrapped his arms around him, giving him a hug, and a small kiss on the top of his head. Much to Logans and Virgils surprise, Patton broke down once again, leaning fully into Roman.

"Let it out, baby. Let it all out... It's okay..." Roman ran his fingers through Pattons soft but tangled hair, giving him small kisses. Patton sobbed so hard that it almost hurt more than the growing cracks. He just wanted to be okay.

Logan sat on the bed next to the others, making a small circle/triangle type group. He patted the sobbing boys back softly, trying his best to be comforting. Pattons eyes began to burn, more than tears ever could. He let out a small whimper, trying not to cry out in pain. He put a hand to his cheek, in which his tears were rolling down. Or well, he thought it was tears. But it was just the same black liquid as before.

Heartbreak...

What may be the end of Pattons whole life.

His actions being uncontrollable, he coughed hard, more liquid reddening his eyes as he sobbed.

"I-it...h-hurts..." He croaked out, curling in on himself as he shook.

"I know, Pat. Just keep breathing. It's okay. You're going to be okay." Virgil spoke, sliding into the hug. Logan decided to join the group hug, they all held Patton in their arms. Patton gave a sad, bloody, smile, enjoying the warmth around him. He coughed once again, more blood spilling out. None of the sides were bothered by the stains that soaked their clothes. But they were all bothered by the sight of Patton. It hurt each of them.

"I...I love you all.." Patton said much too clearly, pain contorting his face.

"Goodbye."

Heartbreak.

What had killed Patton that morning.

[And the artwork I promised in the warnings✨]

[chocolate-parfait]

Apologies for this, but I’ve never asked for a request before. I was hoping you could write some IkeVamp headcanons for Leo, Theo and Vincent. I wanted to know what you think their reactions would be if MC just bit them. Not hard enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to get their attention. (I may or may not be the type to want to bite vampires.)

Hey! Don't worry~ Also, I hope this is what okay with what you wanted even if it's not straight up nsfw?? I mean, it still is heavily implied but I hope you didn't mean it as biting them during smexy times as I can't write that type of stuff yet,,😗

MC biting them (Leonardo, Theo & Vincent)

Leonardo

The sun was on its way to meet the horizon, and the French countryside was painted in amazing shades of golden colors, a palette that would make every painter envious. You and Leonardo were walking back home after a tiring but satisfying day in the city, where the Renaissance man worked hard to solve every problem thrown his way, a job he had grown exceedingly fond of

Despite what had been one of his busiest days during the whole month yet, he still seemed to have the energy of a little kid, the energy to tease you, that is. You couldn't even remember where this banter of yours had picked from, but you were sure it wasn't even that important. What you cared about the most now was the way that annoyingly smug grin of his was getting bigger and bigger each time you struggled to find a proper comeback to his words

You were staring at his stupidly handsome face and were lowkey hoping for him to trip and fall on a horse dump, and of course he had to go and notice your glare. That's when he said it. His typical and most favorite teasing remark that always left you in a pissed silence

"Cara mia, why are you looking at me so? Are you asking for me to bite you? If you want it so bad you should just ask~"

You knew it was coming but this time you felt like the glare you were giving him wasn't enough. Stopping dead in your tracks, you caught his wrist and made him face you. Then, you got on your tiptoes and reached for his neck where you bit him, taking his flesh between your teeth

After stepping back to admire his stunned expression, what you didn't expect was to find his eyes dark with desire. Had he seriously got turned on by that? And now his smirk got wider too!

"Hey, cara mia"

"Mind it if we play a little game when we get back?"

His deep and sensual tone sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine as a blush spread over your cheeks. He, who was carefully watching your every move, slid his toned arm around your wrist, placing a kiss on your forehead

"Who knew my amore could bare her fangs like that-"

He was so, so infuriating, but you loved every moment of it. Then again, today you had learned a new way to have him wrapped around your little finger, though he was always going to make sure to have you back for it. But would you hold it against him? Absolutely not.

Theo

It wasn't his fault, really. You were at a ball held to celebrate the opening of a new art gallery and Theo had been talking business with guests ever since the moment you two stepped into the building. Not that you particularly minded, knowing it always ended up like this each time you attended a party with art-related attendees. All you did was stand by his side, proudly watching as he worked towards the achievement of his dream

Tonight though, he looked more tired and stressed than usual. Lately he had been working more in view of the grand opening, so much he barely ever had time to see or talk to you. You somehow wanted to cheer him up, despite knowing that giving him the puppy eyes and whining for attention would only make him feel guiltier and more stressed

As you were still thinking on how to approach the matter, the art dealer went to greet an old man that was standing near a corner of the grand hall. He was a regular supporter of Vincent's artworks, your lover informed you. You trailed behind Theo, prepared to silently support him from his side, but when the guest asked about you Theo said "This is my partner, Hondje"

The way your eyes looked like they were about to pop out of your heads went thankfully unnoticed by the man, who apparently didn't speak Dutch. You could feel the way Theo just wanted to throw himself off the nearest balcony, and after one of the most awkward silences you had ever witnessed in your whole life, the conversation resumed its normal pace until the two gentlemen bed farewell to each other

At that point you finally understood the way the Heavens had gifted you with the perfect opportunity, so you took a confused Theo by the hand and dragged him outside on the empty balcony. Before he could ask you explanations, you lowered the collar of his shirt and bit him, leaving a beautiful, red mark, like the ones he uses to cover you in

Seeing his surprised face, you decided to tease him a bit, the best shit eating grin you could muster planted on your lips. "My, my, if the master isn't careful with what slips out of his mouth...Hondje here might just snatch his position and become the one in command~"

He finally understood what you were trying to do, and just now did he notice how stiff he had been for the whole day. The way your hands were slowly tracing his sides was enough to chase away every inch of stress from his body, and already predicting which direction you wanted the night to go in, he decided to play along

"What a bad puppy you are, turning against your master like that." You looked at him with satisfaction, seeing how your tactic had worked impeccably. "Well, I can't have you going around and do things like that when anyone might see you. Once we get back, I'll have to punish you throughoutly, until then..." he didn't have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was thinking. The amusement and arousal were clear in his diamond eyes. That pair of eyes that were staring deep, deep down to your core. He could be a bit rough sometimes, that was undeniably, but God did he love seeing you try to snatch control from him

In the end, he fully realized how good a medicine you were for him, and the night ended with a win-win situation for both

Vincent

One afternoon you went to hang around Vincent's room while he was painting. You were feeling kinda clingy but you didn't want to interrupt his work, so all you decided to do was sneaking up on him from behind and then wrapping your arms around his torso, gaining a small squeak from the blonde angel

Once he recognized the scent and the body pressed to his back, he turned around in your embrace to press a soft kiss on the crown of your head, just to newly return his attention on the painting seconds later. He probably didn't catch the meaning of your actions, but you weren't so keen on giving up so soon either

Pressing your chest further into his back, you moved your face until you were able to peek his colorful canvas from the crook of his neck. Eyeing his rosy cheeks and long eyelashes with mischievous eyes to check his reaction, you parted your lips and bit him where the neck meets the shoulder

"Ow!" You couldn't help but smirk. "MC...d-did you just bite me?"

You noticed right away the way his voice trembled ever so slightly and his face had taken the same color of the rosy paint on his brush. But despite looking very cute, he also suddenly appeared extremely "inspired"

It was clear you succeeded in your intent when he set down his tools to fully focus on you, warm breath tickling your ears in quick waves

"You can't do that...biting me out of nowhere..." He said pulling you closer until your noses where touching. "Is it okay...if I bite you too? It's my turn now."

The whole situation was escalating in a wonderful turn of events, and it amused you how quickly Vincent's expression turned from flustered to very needy. Not that you would complain, though

[plasticnightmaredoll]

(artwork is a commission done by @stillfuckinbetterthanyou)

I guess because it’s my birthday soon and I’ve been obsessed with Arkhamverse Riddler lately, I came up with a kinky little drabble involving Enigma/Edward Nashton (Riddler before he was Riddler, basically) and my Arkham Origins o/c, Lorelei Jones.

This may not be part of the main fic involving them, but can be seen as a sort of “bonus” side story or a deleted scene even. 

But it’s canon (well, for this Arkham Origins A/U at least).

The main fic will probably be called, “Break All of Our Stigma,” which is a line from Lady Gaga’s song, “Enigma” (Yes, I know, I know, I just lover her, ok? And the song actually kind of fits Lorelei and Edward). This side drabble is called, “Cake,” and while it does involve Lorelei helping Eddie celebrate his birthday, the “cake” in question isn’t a literal cake.

If you know what I mean 👀👀👀👀💦💦💦💦💦

I mean, there is a cake mentioned in the drabble, but the cake Eddie gets to feast on isn’t that cake.

*cough*

Anyway, here is part 1 of what will most likely be 3 parts. Part 1 is the lead in to eating the “cake,” part 2 will be “eating” the “cake,” and part 3 will be...well, you’ll figure that out ;)

Hey, if you think this is spicy, this is NOTHING compared to what I’m writing for Telltale Riddler. Imagine all of this but, like........................MORE PORN. 

Very NSFT/NSFW content under the cut because Eddie and Lorelei are horny little fuckers 😘

Cake (part 1)

Summary: It’s Edward’s birthday and his lovely GCPD detective, Lorelei, decides to plan something special for him, including a cake. He tells her she needn’t spend so much effort on him, especially since she just wrapped up a rather exhausting case. However, she shushed him and told him he deserves, at the very least, an excellent cake for his special day. However, the “cake” she has ready for him isn’t what he’s expecting...not that he’s complaining.

Edward was more than ready to get to his apartment after a long, tiring, frustrating day at the always “glorious” GCPD. How was it that so many idiots worked in one place? Why were people in general so damn annoying? And stupid? 

As he made his way down the hall, he felt some of the tension leave him as he knew his lovely detective was waiting for him. She’d already given him a birthday gift that morning (a green-striped scarf and dark green gloves, both of which he loved but he told her she didn’t need to spend her money on him), and now she had a cake prepared for him. Sharing some cake with her on his “special day” (he still didn’t see what the big deal was) sounded like the perfect way to unwind (even if she didn’t need to go through the trouble to make one for him). Perhaps it would be relaxing for her as well, chatting over something sweet and enjoying some peace after finishing a very tiring case? He hoped as much since, again, he didn’t want her to feel like she had to spend time or money on him like this.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Lorelei’s text had said in response to him as he left work, and when he entered the apartment, he heard her call out.

“In here, Darling,” she said.

“Be right there,” Edward replied as he hung up his scarf and coat, then placed his gloves in said coat’s left pocket.

Loosening his tie, he placed it on the back of a chair in the living room along with his vest and ID tag. Undoing a few buttons of his dress shirt and rolling up his sleeves, he made his way to the kitchen, a warm smile on his face as he prepared to greet his sublime lover.

Edward stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw Lorelei sitting on the kitchen table wearing nothing except a green garter belt with matching stockings and green high-heels. He could feel his face turning red as his mind struggled to come up with something to say, something that made sense considering his thoughts were all jumbled up at that moment.

“Where’s the cake?” he finally asked, and he mentally kicked himself for asking such a ridiculous question.

“Right here,” Lorelei said as she opened her legs for him. “Disappointed?”

“Not at all!” he said with a little nervous laugh. “Just...really surprised.”

‘Well, it is your birthday...surprises are bound to happen.”

“Indeed…”

“So, are you gonna come over here and enjoy your ‘cake’ or…?”

Edward’s legs seemed to move on their own as he quickly walked over to Lorelei, stepping between her spread thighs and grabbing her waist as he pressed his lips to hers in a deep, passionate kiss. She was so receptive, moaning into his mouth as she wrapped her legs around him to keep him close. How did he get this lucky? Why was he even this lucky? The way she treated him, it was like he was the sexiest man alive, and while he honestly wasn’t, he couldn’t help but soak up all the attention. It felt good -- she felt good. Ah, more than good. He couldn’t properly describe it, especially not while he was making out with her as she was practically naked and had just invited him to enjoy her...to put his face between her thighs and…

“So, did you expect to come home to an invitation to feast on my cunt?” Lorelei asked, slightly breathless, as Edward kissed and nipped at her neck.

His cock twitched in his trousers upon hearing that, and he bit back a moan.

“N-No,” he replied, moving to her collarbones. 

“Disappointed it’s not a real cake?” she asked, and he could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Not one bit.”

“There is actually a small cake in the fridge for us to share. I literally finished icing it before you texted me to tell me you were coming home. We can have some now if you prefer?”

“No, it can wait...I mean, thank you but I...I, umm...want this other ‘cake’ first.”

“Which cake?” 

Lorelei had the most devious grin on her face, and she couldn’t help but think of how adorable Edward looked blushing like crazy and acting a bit shy while still feeling incredibly turned on. Yes, he knew how to fuck her just right so she was reduced to a moaning, panting, mewling mess, but he was undeniably sweet. He gave as much as he took, you could say, and sometimes, he didn’t take nearly enough since he always focused on her. She had no idea what she did to deserve him but she wasn’t going to complain.

“Ummm…” Edward gave Lorelei a cute bashful smile as he slowly reached down between them and pressed his fingers between her slick folds. “This one.”

“You naughty little geek,” she teased with a giggle.

“I haven’t even gotten started yet,” he said, raising a brow and smirking, feeling more and more bold as the seconds ticked by. “This is hardly naughty.”

“Oh? Then what is naughty?”

“This.”

Edward slipped a finger inside Lorelei, meeting little resistance with how wet she was, and quickly inserted a second one, curling them both against her spot and making her shudder. He watched her eyes flutter closed as he carefully stroked her inner walls with his fingers, using his free hand to help guide her head down onto the table. 

“Mmm...that’s more like it,” Lorelei purred as he continued to finger her at a steady pace. “But is that all you--Oh!” Her eyes shot open when she felt Edward’s thumb rub her clit. “Oh, fuck…”

But Edward wasn’t done yet.

He hadn’t failed to notice the green-gemmed nipple piercings Lorelei was wearing (she really knew exactly what turned him on, didn’t she?) and he leaned down and gently sucked on her right nipple. Her fingers threaded into his dark brown hair as a sigh escaped her, and when he lightly tugged on the nipple ring, she inhaled sharply, her fingers scratching at his scalp. 

“Mmm...Eddie,” she panted, chewing on her lower lip. “That’s so good…”

Edward started to use his palm to stimulate Lorelei’s clit as his fingers moved more roughly against her g-spot. Coupling that with the way his mouth was teasing her breasts and Lorelei was no longer as chatty.

“Yes, yes, Eddie, fuck!” she moaned. “Just like that, please, fuck, fuck...ah, shit, fuck!”

Or rather, she wasn’t very coherent anymore.

As much as Edward was loving the sexy noises Lorelei was making, the feeling of her elegant fingers grabbing at his hair, and the lewd wet sounds caused by his fingers between her legs, he knew he had to stop or else this would all be over too soon.

“Sorry,” he said as he slipped his fingers out of Lorelei, causing her to whimper at the loss. “But we can’t let things end too quickly…”

Edward kissed his way between Lorelei’s breasts, up the side of her neck, along and jaw, and stopped at her lips. Their eyes met and they both couldn’t help but smile warmly at one another, her hands cupping his face. Time seemed to stop in that moment, and all he could think of was how much he loved her, how much he craved her, and how he’d give up anything and everything for her. Her thoughts were nearly the same as she delighted in the fact that her life had become so much brighter since she’d let him get close to her.

The kiss they shared was tender this time since neither of them were good at being very sentimental with words. It was enough, though -- or they hoped it was enough to convey how much they cared for one another. It didn’t take long for the kiss to become hungry, however, both of them practically gasping for air as they clung to each other and nearly refused to take proper breaths. 

Lorelei’s fingers moved to Edward’s shirt, undoing the remaining buttons before tugging it out of his pants, watching him sit up and practically tear it off before pressing his now naked upper body against hers and kissing her hard. They were almost forgetting what they were even doing on the kitchen table, and when she reached down to grasp his erection through his pants, he hissed into her mouth and rutted against her palm. She hastily unfastened his belt and ripped it from the loops, then went right for the button and zipper of his trousers, allowing her to reach into his boxers and take hold of his cock.

“Ah, L-Lorelei!” he groaned as he lightly bucked against her hand. 

Honestly, she wanted to beg Edward to just fuck her already, forgo this whole kinky surprise ‘cake’ thing and let him raw her, but no, no, she wanted to do this right. It took all she had to resist but she managed to get herself together so she could speak.

“You haven’t had your ‘cake’ yet,” Lorelei said as she removed her hand from Edward’s pants. 

“You’re right,” Edward said, letting out a breathy laugh. “I want to taste you, Lorelei. Can I? Can I put my mouth on you?”

“It’s your birthday, Baby. Have at it!”

Edward flashed her a grin before giving her a sweet kiss and standing up.

“Let’s get you situated,” he said as he looked her over.

“Yes, Sir,” Lorelei said with a wink, and a shiver ran through Edward.

God, she was going to be the death of him and he didn’t have one complaint about that.

[angellbarnes]

Moonlight

summary: Steve can’t help but draw you whenever he can. You’re both oblivious to each other’s feelings but it’s funny how things can work out.

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

words: 1.7k

warnings: some language but just a load of flufff

A/N: my first Steve x reader! I had this idea and thought it was cute? Let me know what you all think🤍

The chilled breeze of the evening pricks at your skin as you lean on the upstairs balcony of the compound. You admire the stars and the feeling of fresh air against your flushed face, after stepping out of another of Tony’s parties. As fun as they are, they could get a little much for you. 

So as you stared out into the evening, you didn’t take much notice to the others around you, stood or standing, on the balcony. Especially not one certain super soldier, who held a sketchbook and pencil, admiring you and capturing your beauty within its pages. He watched you as you got lost in your thoughts, with the wind rippling through your dress and the way your eyes held the glow of the moon.

He finished his sketch with the last stroke of your hair and looked over the drawing once more. He’d picked up quite the habit of drawing you when you weren’t looking, whether it was sitting in the common room or whilst training or even on the jet to and from missions. His favourite was the one he’d done the other evening, when you were sat on a stool in the kitchen, with a cup of hot chocolate in your hand as you read your favourite book. Your hair was in a messy up do and you were wearing an oversized jumper; he thought you looked adorable and he couldn’t help but capture that moment.

He quickly snaps his book shut as he notices you walking over to him.

“Hey, Steve, beautiful view, isn’t it?” You say and your soothing voice almost sent Steve into a complete daze. He swears he could just listen to your voice for hours.

“Oh, uh, yeah. It really is.” He rubs at the back of his neck whilst sporting a sheepish smile.

“Can I see?” You ask, gesturing down to his book.

“See my drawings?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve always wanted to look at them but I’ve just never got around to asking.”

“Oh, you don’t want to see these. They’re not even proper drawings, just little things here and there.” He replies anxiously. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you saw those drawings, whether you’d run straight in the other direction and never speak to him again, or actually appreciate it. He didn't want to take that chance, though. 

“Okay, well, you don’t have to show me if you don't want to. Maybe one day, though.” Your sweet tone almost makes Steve melt and when you place your hand on his shoulder before leaving, he knows he’s done for.

He’s been harbouring a crush from you for months, slowly falling more and more for you each passing day. Only Sam and Bucky know, though. At least, they’re the only people he’s told. What he doesn't know, though, is that you’d taken a liking to him the first day of joining the team. Since then, you’ve hidden your feelings quite well by not telling anyone and pretending your feelings don't exist. The only flaw in that plan is that the more you act like they aren't there, the more evident they become.

~~~

The next morning you make your way through the halls of the compound, heading to the kitchen for some food. As you turn a corner, you overhear Sam talking to Steve, before they’ve realised you’re there.

“Come on, man. You’ve got to tell her sooner or later. I’m telling you there’s no way she doesn’t feel the same. I’ve seen how she looks at you when she thinks no one’s paying attention. I’m willing to bet on it.”

There’s no way he could’ve been talking about you though, right?

“You should listen to the birdie over here, Steve. Tell her. Whoever she is is a lucky girl.” You comment as you stride in, showing as much confidence as you can muster. You grab a bowl from the cupboard and place it on the island the two are sat at, before taking a spoon from the drawer.

“How- uh, how much of that did you hear?” Steve asks timidly.

“Just the end. So... who is it?” You ask eagerly, though you can feel your heart unwillingly begin to race.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry. Just someone.” He adds a nervous laugh and you eye him and Sam dubiously.

“Cut the bullshit, Cap, just tell her who it is!” Sam nudges Steve and you lean forwards on the counter, wiggling your eyebrows and grinning. You pray for the answer you’re looking for, and it seems more and more possible as he looks at you, deep into your eyes. Your smile softens and he still hasn’t said a word.

“Come on Rogers,” you say as a final push, “just get it out in the open-”

“It’s Sharon.” His reply is blunt. Straight to the point. No hesitation. You abruptly stand back up straight and clear your throat, mentally cursing yourself for actually getting your hopes up.

“Oh.” Is all you can say, trying not to sound disappointed. It hurt, you can’t lie. You wanted him to say your name and he didn’t. Sharon. The word sounded like poison to your ears. “Well, she does seem very nice. On second thought, I’m going to go out for breakfast. I’ll see you two later.” You say as brightly as possible before rushing out of the room.

Steve lets out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding and turns to face his very unimpressed looking friend.

“Seriously?” Sam deadpans.

“I panicked.”

“Yeah, well, good job, Mr I like this girl but I just told her I like someone completely different-”

“Sam, don’t you think I realise what I did? I was the one who said it.” Steve replies, exasperated.

“Nuh uh, I’m not finished. And now she won’t know how I feel because I’m a dumbass and ruined my chance of finding out whether she likes me back.”

Steve replies with a groan, covering his face with his hand.

~~~

When you return from your breakfast out, you head straight to your room. You’d had some time to think about everything that had happened. You concluded that it made sense for Steve to like Sharon over you, seeing as they’ve spent more time together and knew each other way before you did. It was stupid to think Steve could possibly feel the way you do about him because-

“Shit, sorry!” A male voice rings out. You were too in your head to notice the tall blonde walking in your opposite direction.

“Oh my god, Steve, I wasn’t paying attention, I’m so sorry!” You stumble over your words slightly and you look up to Steve, with an amused grin on his face.

“Me too, I should’ve been looking where I was going.”

“No, I had my head in the clouds as usual.” You avert your eyes from him, sheepishly looking to the ground when you notice his sketchbook that he must’ve dropped. You bend down to pick it up for him, noticing it had opened up when it fell.

“Oh, here’s your...” Your voice trails off as your eyes scan over the led covered pages. It’s beautiful you think, letting your gaze wander over every hard and soft line that marks it. 

“I’m so sorry, you weren’t meant to see those. It’s just- it’s-”

“Me.” You finish, breathlessly. You finally tear yourself away from the artwork and back to him. You smile, confused, as you hand it back to him. You would think that he’s suddenly lost the ability to speak as his mouth hangs open, looking for anything he could say to explain himself.

“They’re gorgeous.” You admit, and his adams apple bobs as his mouth closes. “I mean, it’s strange to say, seeing as they’re drawings of me but, Steve, you’re so talented.” You continue, flashing a reassuring smile and giggling slightly.

“You- you like them? You don’t think it’s creepy? Strange?” He asks quietly, fiddling with the corner of the leather binding.

“No, I think it’s sweet.” You reassure and you can see him visibly relax, releasing the tension in his shoulders and letting out a laugh of relief. You take your hand and place it over his. His eyes meet yours briefly but they quickly fall back to where your hand lies atop his.

“Maybe I could see the rest? In your room?” You pose.

“Sure, yeah.” He smiles brighter and leads you to his room silently.

When you hear the clicking of the door behind you, you spin around to say something, though your words disappear into the feeling of another mouth on yours. His lips are soft, delicate, held back, even. It’s short but sweet when he pulls away but his face is still close enough to yours that you can feel his breath fan over yours.

“I’m sorry. It’s just... I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” He admits.

“Me too.” You whisper, biting your lip, and he takes that as a signal to lean down again. This time the kiss is deeper and you sigh into it. He pulls you right into his body and you let him snake his tongue into your mouth. Breathlessly, you both pull away, letting the moment linger in the air a little longer.

“I don’t like Sharon, I never did. I said it because I panicked and didn’t think you felt the same way. I’m an idiot.” Steve lets out, gazing intently at you.

“Yeah, you are,” you giggle, “but we’re here now. That doesn’t matter anymore.” You smile at him and he mirrors it.

Slowly, you draw the notebook from his hand and take a seat on his bed, letting him come over in his own time. You flick through more of it, commenting on how amazing they are each time you turn a page, earning a shy ‘thank you’ each time. You reach the last drawing; you on the balcony last night and let out a small gasp.

“Steve, it’s wonderful. This is what you were drawing when I came over to you? This is why you wouldn’t show me?” You marvel over the way the pencil strokes looked so effortlessly placed on the paper, then reading where he’d written ‘Moonlight’ underneath. Each sketch had a word or a few to go along with it, something to do with the moment he had drawn them.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to show you in case you would run away or something and never want to speak to me again.” You place the sketchbook down, cupping his face in both of your hands.

“I will never run away from you, only towards.”

[madyxtothemax]

The Pit Stop - Part One with @MyArrowBends

Atticus: 

-After a few days, the roads and sights began to blur together. Each truck stop was the same. The coffee all tasted the same and the bathrooms were all equally disgusting. I had enjoyed the solitude at first, but was now beginning to get a little stir crazy, and despite having bought a thicker foam for the bed, it still wasn’t the greatest sleep I’d ever had. 

As I crossed into California, I found myself craving human interaction, and more important than that, I had decided one way or another I would be sleeping in an actual bed tonight. As I gassed up at another same looking, shitty coffee making gas station, I didn’t bother checking google for any nearby hotels, figuring I’d stop when I grew tired and see what was close at that point. 

The hours passed and the sun was inching down toward the horizon with a speed that my van couldn’t seem to match. Dusk had settled and on the horizon I could see a cluster of lights that belonged to a city. I wasn’t sure which one it was, it didn’t matter. I had stopped paying attention to the names at this point since I didn’t really have a destination in mind. I would know when I was ready to stop and until I felt that feeling, I’d keep driving west. 

As the city lights grew closer, that same feeling of from earlier in the day returned. I was ready to find a motel for the night, maybe even somewhere I could grab a drink and a greasy burger. The potential for brief human interaction had a grin pulling the corners of my lips up. 

Still, I avoided searching something out on my phone, wanting to see what I could find on my own. Exiting off the freeway, and making my way toward the city, my eyes searched the buildings as I passed them by. Disappointingly, nothing much seemed to be open...at least nothing that grabbed my attention or sparked any interest. I wanted to find something local, I wasn’t interested in any kind of franchise. Those places were not geared toward any kind of interaction, speed and efficiency was their purpose. 

Finally after a few turns bringing me deeper into the city, I spotted a neon sign. The bright OPEN flashing in the door was the only invitation I needed. Admittedly, I wasn’t paying proper attention because I was still needing to keep an eye on the road, but as I pulled my van over to the sidewalk and looked up at the sign to fully read it, I couldn’t stop my laughter as it filled the quiet around me. 

A tattoo shop. 

I was not a collector of skin art, even though I liked it, I had never really felt a desire or pull to permanently mark my body with any sort of image. But I could see people inside, and I could go in and look around. I could get that human interaction I was craving even if I had zero intentions of getting a tattoo. Yeah. I could do that. 

Twisting the key in the ignition to turn off the engine, I unbuckled my seatbelt and made my way toward the door, noting the time on the door before opening it. I paused to check the time on my phone...they weren’t too far from closing. Perfect. Just enough time to have myself a casual conversation with someone about something I’d never follow through on before finding myself some food and a bed to sleep on.-

Madyx:

<I’d woken with it, the unshakable intuition alerting me that something was on the way. Something for me to attend to. Something significant. Someone to benefit from my unique abilities. Something to shake up the doldrums of a monotonous wave of months. 

As the hours in the day had passed like any other with a few window shoppers, bookings and not much more, whatever I had been anticipating hadn’t materialized. My intuition wasn’t normally so off, in fact I momentarily wondered if I’d pissed off the wrong people and lost my privileges. But, nah, I couldn’t shake it, even as the hours ticked down to less than fifteen minutes before the neon went dark. 

Having just finished with the people who’d shown up to book a session with Jordan, I was relegated to the idea I’d served as a glorified personal assistant for the day. Hell, I hadn’t even done a single piercing, let alone expressed anything in ink. At least Jordan would be pleased with what I’d lined up for her; a lot of people looking to lose their memories and oh-so-many willing to accept whatever consequences came with those choices.

I had my back turned as the group of three left, the bell chiming their exit. Oddly, the shop didn’t feel empty; I wasn’t alone after all. 

Turning, I was unsurprised to see a guy had wandered in just as the others had left. First impression was strong: he looked road weary, like he’d been places, but he wasn’t weighted by fatigue - nope. He wore whatever travels he’d been on with an earnestness. He wasn’t unkempt, but it looked like he hadn’t had a shave in a few days, and there was nothing that could have been done to conceal that he was damn gorgeous. I’d need to see more skin to know if there was any ink hidden under the clothes, and there were no visible piercings… visible being the operative word… 

Right.

I detoured my thoughts from veering in the direction of the gutter and noted the feeling that surfaced during the day had morphed into something more tangible. 

Well then.

I walked his way, which conveniently enough, was in the direction of the sign that was about to go dark. He, whoever he was, already had an unspoken invitation to stay as long as he liked.> 

Hey man, anything I can help you with? 

Atticus: 

-As I stood at the door, hand gripping the handle while sliding my phone into my back pocket, I looked up in time to see three people headed my way. I swung the door open and held it for them, offering an easy smile as they passed and spoke with an excitement I suddenly realized I wanted to feel. Seeing it on others left me no choice but to notice that I was heavily lacking that type of emotion in my own life. Sure, I had bought my van and felt the excitement and when I hit the road, it was there. But it was surface level excitement. 

I wanted to feel the rush of doing something impactful in my life. I still wanted to have some kind of human contact, and while my opinion and lack of desire to ink my skin hadn’t changed in the thirty seconds it took for me to hold a door open and walk inside the shop, I was definitely more open to suggestions. 

The guy who was working had his back to me. That was fine, he was busy and I had all the time in the world to wait to be noticed. Rather than doing something obnoxious like clearing my throat, I turned and began to look at the flash on the walls. Each page was neatly framed and hung with obvious care. Not a single one was off kilter. It made me smile. Anyone who paid this much attention to detail truly cared about what they did. I was envious of their passion.

I didn’t even have artwork that had hung on the walls in my office back in New York. Maybe if I had, my attitude toward being stuck behind a desk all day would have improved. Likely not. 

As I scanned a page filled with anchors, ships and pinup girls, a voice was directed at me. I had been so lost in my head, I forgot my entire reason for stepping into a shop I had no business being in. Turning my attention on the guy, I paused at his question. Shit. Instant attraction. I couldn’t remember the last time that had ever happened. My dick twitched as if to say, SURPRISE I still work! I felt completely disarmed. A fraud. An imposter. I couldn’t help the laugh that was two parts guilt and one part eagerness. 

“...anything I can help you with…”

Was there anything he could help me with? ...yes there certainly was, but I really didn’t want to admit that or what my initial reaction to him had been. My eyes searched his face first and then his gaze as it remained on me. His eyes were warm and welcoming the way my beloved hoodie felt each time I put it on. 

I was taking too long to answer but he didn’t seem to mind considering I was one of those assholes who showed up 15 minutes before closing. Remembering my entire reason for coming in here, to have a conversation with someone, I lifted my hand to the frame on the wall I had been looking at and grinned lazily at him, one side slightly higher than the other as I answered his question with one of my own.- Do you know who drew these? 

Madyx:

<The closer I got, the better my last call was looking. He appeared to be admiring what he saw on the wall which was a lift to my confidence after a day of nada. I was starting to pick up on the energy he was throwing off, and it was coming through strong. He was rife with a quiet excitement, like he was flirting with epiphanies and on the edge of taking chances. I was feeling it on a vibration much higher than my norm. Instant clarity. I relaxed into myself after his arrival helped me shake that unrequited anticipation I’d battled all day.  

When his eyes flicked off the art on the wall to me, I was ill prepared. His steel-blue irises were rimmed in navy, and subtly backlit; his gaze flecked with mischief. The cut of his jaw was a visual temptation outfitted with an infuriatingly attractive amount of scruff. His laugh broke me out of my preoccupation. It was telling, but only thanks to my extra sensory skills. 

His grin though… that was what slayed me where I stood. Crooked and slow, even stretched his lips were full and fetching.  Literally, I couldn’t have hand-picked the features of my non-type type more perfectly. He was exactly what I liked in a guy, at least physically. 

The lift of his hand to indicate the frame on the wall brought up my stare. A confident grin preceded my answer.>  

That would be me. But those are some of my more generic samples. I’ve got a book you can check if you’re in the market. Unless you’ve already got something specific in mind? 

<My eyes raked shamelessly up and down his body, taking stock of the canvas, before heading home to his eyes. I didn’t have to wonder if the charge I was feeling between us was legit. I knew it. If he had come for some ink and a fuck, I’d be happy to indulge his pleasure, even if it wasn’t in store for me… there’s no way I wouldn’t enjoy it.> 

Atticus: 

-The weight of this guy’s stare left me feeling some kind of way. At first, I thought I might be getting one of those he’s into you vibes, but then he answered my question and doubt began to creep back in. Maybe he was one of those people who were far too perceptive and he could smell the scent of wannabe all over me. 

No, I didn’t have anything in mind. I wasn’t interested in getting a tattoo, which was how I felt before I opened the door. I just wanted to have a conversation. Seemed the only way for me to do that without him getting annoyed that I was wasting his time so close to the end of the day was to keep looking at his work. I could do that, wanted to, actually. 

I shook my head, answering as honestly and non-committal as possible as his gaze hit me with a pointed once over. All right. I knew that look. I had given it out a time or two myself. I felt more confident as I found my voice again.- 

No. I don’t have anything specific in mind. I’m not exactly the type to just fill my skin with ink. -I paused and considered how my words sounded then quickly added to it so as not to insult the guy who clearly had no problem filling his own skin with ink which I suddenly wanted to check out every bit of.- I mean, not without research, that is. I’d love to see your book. 

-As he guided me to where a few different books sat on top of the glass countertop, I noticed each one had a different name on the spine. The one he gave me said Madyx. I grinned at him again and flipped open the cover. There were pages of photos of tattoos done on people. Some pages had drawings, too, and I took my time looking at each one. The silence between us was comfortable and easy. When my eyes landed on a particularly colourful image that took up someone’s entire back I paused to study it.- Wow. This one must have taken quite a while. Your work is incredible, Madyx. 

-I chanced a glance his way as I said his name so he knew I wasn’t just blowing smoke up his ass, before looking back down and flipping another page. I was beginning to feel like I was leading him on knowing I wasn’t going to be in town long enough to commit any kind of time like that, even if I did want ink. Which in the three minutes since I last asked myself, still hadn’t changed. I couldn’t pull the trigger on something that permanent. Plus, a tattoo that large would have taken more than one session, I knew that much. As I shifted from foot to foot, trying to figure out how to let him know I was sorry to have wasted his time, the light caught something below the glass counter. It was a showcase of sorts filled with what I assumed was body jewelry. My stomach lurched and adrenaline surged through my veins. I’d always been interested in getting a piercing, maybe...it was far less permanent than ink and wouldn’t take even a fraction of time.- 

Do you only do tattoos? -Sliding the book to the side a little, I checked out the display of hardware with more than the curious interest I had previously given to his artwork.- 

Madyx:

<Gorgeous seemed to be stalling. I sensed a reluctance I couldn’t quite define. I was starting to think it was definitely his first time, or maybe he was just feeling out the idea. BULLSEYE. He admitted as much by answering that he wasn’t the type to fill his skin with ink, but I wasn’t offended, nope. His eyes seemed to reflexively land on my own collection of pieces, and I wanted to invite him to gawk with those blues all he wanted. 

I didn’t care if he didn’t want any work only that it might end up in him leaving sooner rather than later. I was not down with that. I almost missed when he caught his self-perceived fuck up, but was nearly punch-drunk when he took me up on the offer to check out my book. Normally I wouldn’t waste someone’s time if they weren’t actually intent on letting me scratch my artistic itch, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave and, duh, same page. 

I handed off the book and he seemed to be truly checking it out. There was an excitement for me, one I hadn’t quite tasted. It was a thousand flavors, custom made...meant for me. Yeah, this was hitting way below the epidermis, into the bone, and below the belt, too. When he stopped on the page he did, my gut twisted in the best way, he just so happened to land on the favorite piece I’d ever laid down in ink. It had been inspired by Klimt’s “The Kiss” per the patron’s request, but with several liberties worked into the artistic elements. Instead of an obscure male and female, it was clearly two males. It had morphed from a symbolist piece to something more sci-fi and steampunk.  There were three dimensional aspects and an inordinate amount of intricate details, like any provoking piece, it begged look after look. In total it had taken 36 hours in six sessions. I would have got lost thinking about it if something else hadn’t caught my attention - my name. The intention in his tone was unmistakable. Now we were getting somewhere.

I didn’t even care that we didn’t discuss that tatt he’d stopped on, it was logged into the distant past when his attention shifted to the display of body jewelry. I walked to the opposite side of the counter, light shining up from the backlit case, we were closer to face to face and hell-to-the-yes; I saw the change in his posture. We were REALLY getting somewhere. 

I handle the piercings, too. <clearing the space of the books for the full view> But before we get to that, we need to level the playing field. Got a name or should I just call you gorgeous? 

Atticus:

-Generally speaking, I was not always very quick to pick up the cues when someone was flirting with me. It usually took a couple of are they or aren’t they moments before I caught on and then properly joined in on the exchange of the flirting game. Tonight it only took me two of those moments. First when I caught sight of him looking me over and then again, just now when he called me gorgeous. 

My grin at Madyx was instant and interested as I answered, holding out my hand to him for a shake, as proper dudes do.- Atticus. 

-When his hand slid into mine, I gave it a solid squeeze, and chanced a light brush of my thumb over the back of his before releasing it. His hand was warm and slightly rough on the palm, not at all unpleasant, the kind of hand that knew how to do hard work and wasn’t afraid of it. Not at all like my paper-pushing, then couch lazing hands. The most work mine had been doing lately had been flicking a signal indicator for left and right. 

As I returned my attention back to the display of body jewelry, I briefly thought about the other places I might enjoy the rough grip of his hands and damn near groaned. My dick was more than on board and before I could pitch any kind of tents of embarrassment, I considered piercing the damn thing just to get it to go back down. As far as ideas one might think about to initiate a cooling down effect on their body, this one should have worked for bringing my semi back to completely flaccid. Should have. 

It didn’t. 

The more I imagined Madyx jamming a needle through my most sensitive flesh, the more my pulse quickened and the more I discovered that I liked the idea. Fuck. Guess my body had decided for me. I now only needed to man up and tell the guy what I wanted. Vocalization time. If I couldn’t ask for the damn piercing, I did not deserve to have his hands on me, and that, judging by the sinking pit my stomach had just become was not at all what I wanted. 

Given how everything else I had done since rolling into this town has been on impulse decision making, I let my mouth run without much consultation with my brain, and hoped for the best.-

I’d like to be handled. -Welp. That was a wide open innuendo of his own words that couldn’t be taken back now. Guess I wasn’t going with my usual subtle approach, then again, nothing about this encounter was close to my usual.- A piercing, maybe two? Do you have time tonight? I noticed the sign said you were closing right away. I can always come back tomorrow if you need to close up and get out of here... 

-I wouldn’t keep him if he had somewhere else to be, but I really didn’t want to wait until tomorrow, I was too afraid of losing my nerve or even worse, waking up having decided I suddenly wanted an entire back piece devoted to body piercings. I shuddered at that particular thought before shaking my head, waiting to see if he was game for some over time before I even broached the topic of where I wanted him to pierce me.-     

Madyx:

<There was the grin again, but this one drew me in like it was baited with something addictive. I wanted a taste. I also wanted to hear him say my name again, that was until he told me his. 

 Atticus. 

As if I wasn’t already in deep shit with the grin, he had to go and share a name with one of my favorite literary characters. I wanted to roll it around in my brain on a loop, then say it out loud so I could see how it would feel in the slide off my tongue.  I swallowed thickly and dropped my hand into the one he offered for a shake, setting off a chain reaction I had in no way expected. 

Our hands fit like they belonged to each other, his warmth matched mine but his skin was smoother, more pliant. My eyes hit his just as I felt the subtle stroke of his thumb on mine. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and an electrifying buzz scaled my spine, then split and radiated north, east, south and west. My heart started to race in an erratic beat against my rib cage. When heat balled in my gut and prickled along the underside of my dick, it finally registered what was going on. Pleasure had always been my gift, but I had only played delivery boy and spectator so I hadn’t immediately recognized my receptivity. And it was specifically something about him…. I could feel his desire commingling with mine, the energy and tension between us behaving like a magnet...SNAP. 

Shit. For the first time in my life I was on the other side of the glass I��d always looked through. He was human, it shouldn’t be possible, but his singular, innocent touch had been undeniably thrill inducing. My mind and body were both fully engaged. If it wasn’t for the loss of his hand and his next words, I probably would have stood there in silence like a mooning asshat…. Lost in his eyes and all that.

But, HELLO, he wanted to be handled. I crossed my arms casually over my chest and couldn’t suppress the sideways smirk that came on quick. I’d handle him all he wanted, and with curiosity layering on top of the attraction to him, I wasn’t going to be shy. 

I kept getting hit with solid signals from him, they were unlike anything I’d ever felt, and somehow I knew he was also outside of his norm, but completely natural.  My attention perked when he brought up piercings and something about coming back tomorrow. 

Time to perish that thought. 

Shaking my head, I dropped my hands in a wide sprawl on the display case, leaning towards him.> 

I’ve got the time and my place is just upstairs. So what do you want, Atticus? <The question was meant to be overt and open ended. And if I loved learning his name… saying it packed a thousand times the punch.>  And for the record, I’d love to handle you. <It was shameless and I was not at all sorry.>

Atticus:

-He lived upstairs...I laughed at the immediate thoughts that came to mind then shook my head slowly, speaking quickly before he could get any kind of insulted.- 

Seems for the moment we are neighbours, Madyx. -The hand that had just held his, because of course I would now be differentiating my hands by whether or not they had touched him, lifted and I thumbed over my shoulder to my van parked out front. As his eyes moved to where I had indicated, I stared at the way his lips curved up at the corners and my fingers twitched at my sides wanting nothing more than to touch him again. 

Since it was generally frowned upon to yank a guy I’d just met over the counter and kiss him without giving him any kind of forewarning or chance to stop me, I cleared my throat and attempted to redirect my wayward thoughts back to what we had been talking about. He’d asked me a question and the proper thing to do was answer it. What did I want? 

I knew what I wanted… HIM. But that wasn’t what he’d been asking no matter HOW suggestive his voice had sounded to my ears.

In my early twenties I had looked into piercings, researched all the types and varieties a guy could get as a means of using the knowledge to impress this one chick I had liked when I overheard her talking about how hot guys who had them were. It even worked, up to a point. Turned out, simply knowing about piercings was much different than actually having them, and when she discovered I didn’t actually have any, her interest in me wavered and she quickly moved on. At that point, I didn’t see the need to get anything done since I had started out wanting to impress her, my intentions had been shallow, and lacked the intent to follow through. But now...now, my intentions were less fueled with wanting to impress someone I was attracted to and more about self-discovery. 

Tonight, the idea of getting a piercing made me feel more alive than I had in years. It was the right reason to pull the trigger on this. The gut churning excitement was the same I felt when I had called the number on the FOR SALE sign that had been hanging on the window the day I decided to buy my van. I was immediately grateful to the chick of my early twenties for having inspired me to do all that research, even if her rejection had been a blow to my fragile, immature ego. 

Was I being impulsive now? Absolutely. But I already knew I wouldn’t regret this which was why without any uncertainty colouring my voice, my gaze found Madyx’s and I grinned confidently as I told him exactly what I wanted.-

I’d like the first two rungs of Jacob’s Ladder. 

-I knew what I was asking for, and I hoped like hell the nickname for frenum piercings hadn’t changed in the years since I had done all that research. If it had, I fully expected him to laugh in my face and tell me to get my wannabe ass the hell out. I held my breath, and counted the thuds of my pulse as they wooshed in my ears feeling less and less confident in my answer as the seconds passed by that it took him to speak.- 

Madyx:

<There were several impulsive words trying to fly off my tongue, but I was biding my time. I glanced past him when he indicated he was my neighbor, noting the tell tale silhouette of his VW bus. Currently nomadic, likely sleeping on a less than comfy mattress in the name of experience.  The mentality someone must possess to live on impulse was a turn on, and it worked in my favor. Without knowing it, he was feeding me information and arming my artillery with all kinds of weapons to extend the night…because without explanation, I just wanted more with him. More time. More touch. MORE. 

Atticus was setting off signals like flares in a moonless night, the attraction was undeniably mutual. I knew it, but did he? He would, I wasn’t letting him out of my company without shooting my shot. . My sensory grid was lighting up in a bright spectrum of greens, this was something fae only experienced in the rarest of circumstances. I knew what it meant but couldn’t delve into all that mythology on the spot. 

Fuck that. I was just going to go with it. 

And then he said it. What he wanted. 

I knew there was more by the way his eyes flicked over my lips and the unequivocal energy that told me he was using restraint. 

My brows shot up in reaction. My grin stretched a little wider. My dick bucked in my jeans clearly in support of this development. I toed the line of professionalism in my day to day operations, but this was beyond that. I couldn’t stop thinking about getting his cock out of his pants. With a casual swipe of my tongue between my lips, I opened the case, pulling out the options so we could get down to business. I knew he wasn’t going to run. I’d bet on it.>

You have piercings I can’t see? Or do I get first honors? 

<fingering a few of the barbells to draw his eyes down, even though I loved the heat of them on me> Are you thinking the same size for each? Or a descending size?  Grooved balls? <I smirked, couldn’t help it>  Smooth? 

We’ll get to gauge when I see what we’re working with, Atticus. 

<I loved his name too fucking much and still wanted to say it a thousand different ways just to know how it felt on my tongue, lips and in every incarnation. And yeah, I wanted him to know I had his dick on my mind, front and center. With every tick of the second hand, the tension was on the rise, and I was thriving in anticipation of reaching the breaking point.>

Atticus:

-Just as my lungs were beginning to burn for fresh oxygen, he spoke, and I exhaled slowly, controlling myself from letting out a sigh of relief so as not to let on how unsure of myself I had been feeling. There was no laughter or smirking from him that told me I had used an outdated slang. Excellent. I was starting to feel less and less like a poser with each follow up question he asked. He was very clearly taking my request seriously though I was not blind to the less than subtle moments of flirtation he was allowing to slip out with each exchange between us. And I was about to let him see my dick. I almost laughed. I held it in. Barely. 

It was my turn to speak. Right, he needed answers. I could give those. With a grin and a rub of my hands together I chuckled as I got the first question squared away.- No. I don’t have any other piercings. You’re my first, Mad. 

-My eyes dropped down to the tray of hardware he removed from the display case, ears working overtime to hear each of his rapid fire queries that I was delayed in noticing I had already shortened his name from Madyx to Mad. Both suited him, but if he was about to get face up in my junk without it being sexual I figured it was all right for me to shorten his name without expressed permission, that was how nicknames were supposed to happen anyway.- 

Size. I hadn’t really considered that when I went and got overzealous with my request for two piercings. -Laughing low, my eyes moved between the various sizes of barbells he was showing me before making up my mind with ease.- 

I want them to be the same. As far as accessories go, I’m a bit of a minimalist and the idea of gradually increasing seems a bit pompous if not arrogant to me. I can only imagine the size needed at the base if I went and got the great idea to complete the ladder. FUCK. -A shudder of regret for future me shot down my spine then ricocheted straight into the tip of my dick. All previous arousal swifty vacated my body and in a hurry. Decision made.- Yeah. definitely the same size. And smooth. 

I also know enough from my research ages ago to know I won’t be looking to stretch out the gauge, either. No matter how fast these particular piercings tend to heal, I don’t want my dick to become a branch of a Christmas tree, sagging under the weight of a too heavy ornament. God, can you even imagine?! -The mental images that began to fill my mind had me laughing again.- Otherwise, any other decisions needing made, I will heed to your expert opinion. 

Madyx:

<I caught his exhale and something about it felt like he was relieved, as if he’d just confessed a long held desire for the first time, and maybe I wasn’t so off the mark as he answered that I was his first. I didn’t have time for a smart ass remark about popping his cherry because of what he said right after. 

Mad. He called me Mad. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, as if a hand had ghosted upwards, calling it to attention. The sensation carried up into my scalp, and even to the tips of my ears. How was it that something so damn simple was so affecting with him? It wasn’t the first time since he walked in my shop, and the longer he stayed, the more I was convinced there was more of it in store.

I took him in as he weighed his options out loud, none of his choices surprising me. I figured he’d want something understated,  but I didn’t want to assume out loud and then have him reveal his elaborate plans for a rainbow ladder with alternating barbells down the back of his cock. That would have been a grave mistake! 

I laughed my ass off when he referenced a Christmas tree sagging under the weight of a heavy ornament from sizing up the gauges, unable to stop myself.>

If the piercings look like too heavy ornaments and your dick a limp tree after piercings, then someone doesn’t know shit about shit when it comes to proper technique. 

You’re in good hands, Atticus. I promise you that. <I flicked my eyes up to hopefully catch his, and thankfully I didn’t miss my target.> First, proper frenum piercings need to hit at the right depth to avoid that unfortunate look. Second, and counterintuitively, because of the skin, we’ll want to use a heavier gauge. With a lighter weight, during the healing process, it would push towards the surface, also resulting in the wrong appearance and a damn inconvenient dangling effect that could lead to unfortunate zipping incidents. 

<Laughing, it was a feat to drop my eyes from his as I started selecting options to suit his taste>

You’ll want to consider width dependent on your head. Sight unseen, I think this brushed steel goes with your vibe. 

You also have options when it comes to the size of the balls. <smirking, I laid a few out> You don’t have to decide standing here, we’ll bring them over to my station and you can see what looks right to you. 

You ready? Need a beer? Something stronger?  <My mouth on your cock to ease any nerves? I kept that last one on lockdown, lifting a brow, as I anxiously waited for his reply>

Atticus:

-My previously lost arousal was swiftly returning, and reaching tenting trouble territory when Madyx promised I’d be in good hands. Wouldn’t I just love to be in his hands. I stared at them while he sorted through the barbells, selecting some he thought would work. Long fingers, nimble and sure in their movements. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Now was not the time to learn I had a kink for hands, I’d never felt that way before, maybe they were just his hands I was lusting after, particularly when paired with this whole conversation that felt heavy with an undercurrent of attraction. I couldn’t deny it was flowing in both directions. He was making it pretty obvious, where I would have normally brushed it off as him being friendly in the beginning, I’d have to be blind to not see it now. I was damn sure seeing it. 

Things were about to get very awkward if I didn’t get control over my body. I was a magnet drawn to a piece of metal, desperate to move closer, to obtain that satisfying click when the connection was finally made. 

What was my life right now? 

How could, of all the places I decided to stop on a whim have this guy right here, and have this kind of mutual attraction happen so effortlessly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt that way toward someone and have them return it. Years, for sure. Many years. My eye was not exactly particular, it checked out chicks and dudes equally, but it took a lot to make me want a second glance.  

Then he had to go and talk about ball sizing while smirking at me. I was starting to suspect he was playing with me. Cat toying with a mouse. Taunting my dick with his innuendo, coaxing it to come out of hiding and play his game. Did I want to? DUH. There was no denying how much I wanted to do just that. 

But how does one go from piercing consultation to...Hey, you give me a boner, wanna hook up? Yeah…..no. He was hot, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was hit on all the time. Likely every day. I was certain of it. I didn’t want to be just some lame customer who was looking for an after hours special with the good looking tattoo shop guy. 

Could I be any more of a cliche. I prided myself on being nothing of the sort...well I kind of was with my current on trend living in a van and travelling lifestyle. The only points working in my favour there was that I hadn’t documented a single moment of it outside of the memories in my mind. I wasn’t the next Van Guy with the Instagram worthy morning shots overlooking the ocean while holding a cup of coffee and casually displaying my abs for more likes. A thirst trap, I was not. I had higher standards than that. 

Questions were being sent my way. Was I ready? What a loaded thing to ask, I laughed and hoped it didn’t sound as choked off to him as it did to my ears.- Yes. I’m ready. I’m good on the beer, for now. I think. 

-I laughed again, this time it felt a little looser passing over my lips and I looked down at the tray of jewelry once more then looked back up at him, eyes finding his. Before I could stop myself, words tumbled out without much control over the content or how they’d be received, now was not the time to have shame or embarrassment, I needed to know if the situation in my jeans could be salvaged.- I once read that when getting dick tattoos, you had to be hard the whole time. Is the same true for piercings? 

Madyx:

<The energy smacking me around was nothing I’d ever come across. Fuck. It was inexplicably intense, like we were plugged into each other and exchanging a charge. I was still mind-blown by what he was putting out. His subconscious and deep-seated pleasures were stimulating mine, as if they were dependent on one another. When I caught moments of him looking at me, my body reacted and my heart was thumping, driven by the physical and not so physical. I shut-up the internal analysis as much as I could and focused on what was in front of me. 

Atticus was definitely anticipating, his excitement laced with nervousness inciting my extra fae receptors into overdrive. He covered pretty well, but his flustered laugh made me want to drop my jeans on the spot. I was stoked he’d declined the drink, especially since he’d slipped with the “for now.” Bingo. That was enough to confirm he wasn’t looking to bolt after I got up and personal with his cock. 

The jewelry out, I let my attention land squarely back on him while he entertained what I’d displayed. It gave me a chance to scope the strong, lithe line of his back, and the sharp cut of his scruffed jaw. Hell, with every fresh recognition of his attributes, his hotness was intensifying right along with my craving for a thorough taste. While I had this fuck-me revelation, he was quiet, probably thinking about the dual-punctures I was about to put through his cock.  I knew something was coming but the smirk that happened when he asked his question could not be helped.>

I’d like to see someone keep it hard through an entire inking. It only needs to be up for the stencil portion of the tattoo, after that there are creative ways to stretch a dick for the shading. As for you… <pursing my lips then rubbing them together> I’ll get the job done either way, as long as I can pinch the skin, I can pierce it. Generally, there’s more to work with when it’s not at attention. Chew on that and follow me.

 <My smirk widened just before I broke eye contact and grabbed the tray of jewelry.  Cocking my head in the direction of my station and the chair that would have him slightly reclined when he planted ass in it. I set the tray down and waited for him to get situated while I snapped on my gloves. When I turned around,shit, my eyes went straight south where it was hard to miss what was happening behind his zipper and before I could blow it, my eyes shot back to his. I couldn’t seem to stop doing that. I also couldn’t repress the urge to set him at ease and give him something to grab onto during this prelude to a pierce. 

Playing it cool, casual, intent on finessing my approach, I took a seat on my stool, which kept us at eye level with one another. I knew he wanted this in my bones, but I was feeling the nerves from the risk of it. I stepped over the edge and took the cliff dive, the words passing over my lips as I felt a rush from the free fall.> How about you don’t leave after we’re done with business. <It was a question, but the way it came out sounded more like a statement. Unintentional. Organic. Assured. I dropped my eyes to his cock before they raked back up his body...to his suckable throat...his full lips...and back home to his grey-blue eyes.>

Atticus: 

-“Chew on that and follow me.” Shit. He knew. He had to. There was no way he couldn’t tell I was already sporting wood. When he turned his back to me and headed to his station, I tried to chill myself the fuck out. Naturally my eyes landed on his ass and the fire that was in my veins ignited to an inferno and I knew there would be no way to get the blood to vacate my cock. This was going to be embarrassing for at least one of us in a couple of moments. 

Did it matter though? I was just passing through town, at least that had been the plan when I entered the shop. I came in here looking for a conversation with another person and now I was about to leave with some metal accessories. I shook my head as I took a seat on the chair he wanted me in and took a few deeper breaths trying to slow the thundering of my heart. 

I wasn’t shy about my body, never had been, but damn if I wasn’t worried about how he’d react when he took notice that I was more than eager to have his hands on me. Could I explain it away with a joke about being a masochist? Maybe, but it wasn’t true, not by the definition of the word. 

As I spent precious time fretting in my mind he had turned around from setting down the tray and...YEP. I watched as Mad got himself an eyeful and like the professional I already figured he was, his gaze moved right past my crotch and straight up to my face. 

He didn’t laugh. Or smile or even make a comment. The flirting that had been so natural halted. I didn’t know what to do with that. I was suddenly feeling overheated in my hoodie while worry about insulting him began to cycle through my mind, of course that was when things started to chill out for me in trouser tent town. I reconsidered the whole masochist angle again just to try and break the silence but shook my head to myself. It wouldn’t matter in a day or two or a week. I’d carry on with my drive and he’d have a story to tell his coworkers tomorrow. I was fine being a laughable story. 

Before I could find something casual to say, he sucker punched me with that line of staying after he was done and I briefly wondered if he was trying to throw me a bone because he felt sorry for me. I didn’t think so. The tension between us had been palpable from the start. I nodded at his non-question.- Yeah. I’d like that. Though we both know you already know that I would. 

-I laughed low as his eyes did another sweep and the previously cooling jets fired right back up again. Jesus. When did I become a thirteen year old boy seeing his first dirty magazine. I reached up behind my neck as I sat forward in the chair and pulled my hoodie off over my head, draping it on the arm of my chair, leaving me in my well worn white tee that was underneath. 

There was no point in trying to hide shit, the elephant in the room had been noticed, spoken about and well acknowledged, not to mention Mad was about to shake hands with the trunk. I blew out a breath, feeling all embarrassment sliding away as easily as I had taken off my hoodie, and grinned at him.- Let’s get to you shoving some needles through my family jewels so we can have that beer you mentioned.

[7wanderingpaws]

Summer Rain ☔

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: one shot, university AU, fluff

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: none

A/N: This was soo unplanned!! But my mind is full of ideas recently! The moodboard is my first ever so apologies; it isn’t as aesthetically pleasing, but I still had fun :((( if you could let me know what you thought... I’d  be glad! 😊

.

There was a laugh that resonated the space in the university park. It was a bright summer day, making you feel pleasant since the recent storms cleaned up the air and brought in cool breezes. 

You were humming a song to yourself and an instant smile spread over your face when you heard that contagious smile. Not even looking up to know whom it was coming from, you continued drawing, his image vivid in front of your eyes even though you weren’t seeing any of him in that instant. Your left leg was folded under your backside while the other one was dangling from the bench, enjoying the freedom and the gentle breeze.

Another round of that same laughter came to you and this time you looked up, your gaze focusing on his face.

He was sitting opposite you, thankfully. You arrived to the place before him and his friends, and as much as you suppressed the gnawing thoughts, you felt like it was a beautiful fate that he sat across you so you could have a proper view while you were drawing exactly him. Right now, his eyes were almost invisible given how wide of a smile was plastered on his face before he chucked down a bottle of water he kept slurping from the entire time. He listened to what his friend had to say before starting to giggle again.

You sighed blissfully, slowly averting your gaze back to the little drawing you had going on. It had been weeks since you started working on this comic book, drawing all your desires down. Desires and images you had with him. As much as it could have been creepy, you liked to imagine him in different universes. If he wouldn’t be a university student, what would have become of him? Or he had been one but he liked to smoke and not smile too much, his reserved posture still a charming point. You imagined him in various clothing that wouldn’t  be scandalous, but the lines you sketched with your pencil would be able to give the image a sensual feeling, your heart fluttering just at the thought of him dressing that way.

But the most common sketch you almost always ended up drawing unconsciously was him smiling down at you, holding sunflowers out for you to take. His long hair would fall into his warm eyes and the sun kissing his skin would turn it into gold. And just like that, it would end up with another sketch where you kiss him. Because that was the only way you were willing to have the story end. Kissing. Both of you smiling.

But you didn’t know him. You never talked to him. And his smiles were basically for free, given how he would smile at anyone who met his eyes even for a split second. A walking sunshine, indeed.

And just like that you were crying.

A drop fell onto your sketch, exactly on his smiling face as he was looking at you.

Except, it weren’t your tears for once.

“Guys, let’s go! It’s raining!” you heard his friends shout, grabbing all their belongings they had sprawled out on the table.

The crowded park suddenly moved. Everyone was rushing into the surrounding buldings as the rain intesified, while you took the time to collect all your sutff, trying to avoid the rain drops ruining all your artwork.

The weather not hinting it would suddenly let rain fall, you didn’t come prepared, umbrella dutifully stored in the corner of your apartment. Reaching for the last sketch, another hand, quite feminine, appeared in the line of your vision, grabbing it and handing it to you. Murmuring a thanks, you barely got to look up while you zipped up your backpack before you heard a voice.

“Come quickly, you don’t want to get drenched,” said... Baekhyun.

Snapping your widened eyes up at him, you froze, not understanding what was he doing in front of you, his jacket above his head as a shield as he motioned his hand at you to hurry you. Without waiting for your answer, he stepped next to you and widened his right arm so that you were under his jacket too, before he said: “Run!”

And well. When people tell you to run, you run. And so you did, the backpack now on your back. The rain was so heavy, puddles were already reflecting him and you when you stepped into them, splotching the dirty water to every direction. You giggled happily and you heard his breathy laugh, too. Daring to look up, you saw his profile that you so well studied for all those weeks, trying to get each and every curve, spot, scar of his face correctly. Even though you really were good at your craft, no one could give justice to his face, not even your steady, skilled hand.

“Which building?” he shouted over the rain, looking down at you, to catch you stare. He gave you a genuine smile as he slowed down a bit and only then you heard yourself panting.

“Art building,” you replied, not dropping the eye contact. He nodded before he turned to the left.

Thankfully for you, art building was further away from the university park. At least five-seven minutes of walking. You knew you had some little time with him for now.

“So an art student, huh?” he asked. “I saw your drawings. They are amazing.”

Your heart stopped beating for a split second. The drawings of him. Was he able to recognize himself?

You blushed, biting your lip as you stared on the pavement trying not to step into another huge puddle, although your white sneakers had been already drenched. “There are better people out there.”

“But you have a very distinct style,” he stated and when you looked at him again, his smile was even wider. “Like, really, really cool one. And, I don’t think I have met you before,” he added nonchalantly.

Smooth talker. But your heart was still beating hard and fast. “Eh, yeah, I am not the most known person on this campus.”

“Neither am I.”

You scoffed gently and he gave you a curious gaze. “If you say so. But,” you stopped for a second, quickly contemplating whether what you were about to say would ruin your conversation or not. “I defintely met you before. Well, saw you.”

You might as well admit your crush on him.

He was genuinely surprised at your words. “Really? I am so sorry, I usally don’t pay attention...”

“No,” you quickly said, shaking your head gently, “it is all fine. Anyway,” you said and told him your name, smiling at him brightly. At your name, his eyes sparkled and murmured: “I’m Baekhyun.”

“Nice to meet you.” Finally.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, sending you a playful wink.

You giggled again, looking ahead of you, just to spot the art building. Not very happy about it, you stole another glance at the male next to you and when he felt your gaze, he turned his head with a lopsided grin.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice light.

“What is your major?”

“Singing and performing.” He shook his head to get his long hair out of his eyes. “But I am also very intrested in music production and such.”

You knew it. You knew it all. His major - it could be easily figured out, and your crazy high school-like crush on him made you sniff out information quite easily. The latter information though, you overheard in the cafeteria when, yet during another fateful meeting, he sat opposite you at the table in front of you, and spoke with passion about creating music.

You still feigned surprise. “So art building is your main place for lectures, too! I am a bit offended you never paid me any attention,” you acted.

Baekhyun laughed but you felt it wasn’t completely honest. He was sorry. “Hey, no, no, I am just so ignorant towards my surroundings sometimes,” he spoke gently. “You have no idea how mad I am right now that I missed a chance to talk to someone like you.”

You almost stopped walking, redness and heat giving away your emotions to him. Was this a dream? “Well, we can always just do that. Start talking,” you smiled genuinely.

He hummed. “That we should do.”

Climbing up the stairs that led to the main entrance, you stopped once safely under the roof, turning to stare at the huge downpour. If Baekhyun wouldn’t be next to you right now, you would have closed your eyes and imagine him next to you. Just how lovely was it you didn’t have to imagine and dream?

“So,” he said sheepishly as he turned to you, his jacket drenched and leaving a small puddle on the concrete where he was standing. He observed your red cheeks and your curled up hair from the humidity and suddenly forgot the question he was planning to ask you. You blinked rapidly at him, which snapped him out of his reverie, because damn, that was cute. “Eh, would you like to show me your drawings? And then,” he hesitated, his hair falling into his eyes again. Your hand itched. “We could grab a coffee if... the game would be still on for you.”

If the game would be still on for you, he had said. Leaving those words up to your forever colourful imagination, you nodded, somehow not shy to show him the sketches of... him. The on-going comics would be considered too, but you would have to see.

Sitting in the common area, you took out your sketchbooks, some having donkey ears because you used them so much. A shiver ran down your spine when he sat close to you, his knee almost knocking into yours.

Catching the goosebumps on your forearm, he was quick to shrug off his shirt that he wore over his white t-shirt. Before you could protest, he stood up and put it gently on your shoulders from behind, making sure the skin was covered well. Smiling to yourself, you thanked him as he sat back down, an intense emotion in his eyes as he nodded in acknowledgement.

One deep breath, and you slowly opened up the sketchbooks. He was still watching you, though, the sharp light of the common room highlighting features a daylight wouldn’t do.

“This is,” you started and caught his gaze on you, but you didn’t let that discourage you. If anything, you were more than sure of this. “This is all my recent work that I take pride in. So be kind,” you added, raising your index finger to warn him.

Baekhyun chuckled at your antics when he caught your index finger and gently shook it, letting it go. “Okay, okay, calm down, tiger.”

Laughing, you tucked your hair behind your eyes, observing him observing your work. He was studying each piece with interest, humming in approval, dragging his fingers over the surface, over your signature. “The details are almost perfect,” he muttered and after a second he raised his eyes to meet yours.

“Yeah, almost,” you agreed, shrugging. “Nothing is perfect in this world, Baekhyun.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and smirking, he reached a palm out to you. “A pencil, dream girl.”

Staying still and staring, it took you a moment to break his eye contact. His encouraging smile made you move finally, taking out your pencil case you doodled various versions of banana milk on, and placed your favourite pencil into his awaiting palm. “Here.”

Baekhyun didn’t wait, as he grabbed one of the sketches of him. “Almost perfect... Why almost, when it could be just perfect?” he murmured, leaning in close, the pencil’s sharp point hovering above the drawn lips. He moved it just above the right side, and placed a small dot.

Your mouth was hanging open by then when realisation hit you.

And all your racing thoughts were confirmed when he looked back up at you and leaned in close, pointing to a mole just above his lip. Just where he drew the dot on the lip on your sketch. “You missed the part with the biggest sexappeal, cutie.”

Still not giving in, you frowned. “No more dream girl?”

“I don’t think it would suit you anymore,” he said, tapping his chin. “Since you might change from a dream girl to...?”

“Baekhyun-”

“If I only knew you had a crush on me,” not letting you finish, he laughed softly, shaking his head as he let it hung for a moment before looking up at you. “You are gorgeous inside and out.” He paused and let his eyes wonder over your facial features. “Would you still want to grab a coffee with me? Is the game still on?” he muttered, his voice almost intimate.

“Yeah,” you breathed eagerly and you wanted to scream and shout from happiness. “Yes.”

He giggled and leaned in, still grinning, making you squeal from the proximity. “Baekhyun!”

He laughed. “Sorry! I wish I had the sunflowers that you drew... Thought I could at least smile at you like that. Just like you dreamt.”

You were red like a tomato, sweating and bothered. Was this really happening? Since when was he like this? And did this mean he liked you?

“And the kiss,” he teased. “Can be the next step.”

🎉🎊🎀

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